STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Okay, I'm officially starting to post this crazy thing. The title means absolutely nothing--I just can't think of a good one! I should explain that my Paris and Chakotay have more to do with the characters Jennifer Pelland developed in the Left Hand of Madness series than any crazy tv show. For instance, in my little Voyager world, Seska never existed and Tom Paris never turned in to a lizard and procreated with the captain. My Paris is younger than he is on the tv show--he's about 25 here. This story heats up in subsequent installments, which will be clearly identifed. PART 1 CHAPTER ONE As days went, Chakotay had had better. It was bad enough that he was stuck on the food gathering mission for the third trip in a row, but due to a malfunction in the warp core, he and Tom Paris were the only scheduled crew available to go. Chakotay tried--and failed--to keep the disdain from his face as Paris joined him on the transporter padd. Once on the planet's surface, Paris accepted his ill temper with a resigned shrug. They silently went about their business, scanning plants and gathering those that were edible. The planet was mostly sand and rocks, with very little vegetation, and Chakotay was thinking of calling it a bust until Tom found several varieties of fruits that grew up the side of the mountain ridges. Harvesting the fruit was tedious and they'd been taking turns climbing the rather precarious ledges and tossing fruit to the person standing below. It was taking too long, so Chakotay suggested they stick to the lower ledges where they could both climb and simply toss the fruit to the soft sand below. Chakotay never quite knew what happened next. He stepped to his left, made sure the footing was secure, then shifted his weight. The rock beneath his feet gave way and with a sickening lurch, Chakotay felt himself begin to fall. "Commander!" Tom shouted frantically, but somehow managed to shove Chakotay back against the safety of the mountainside, but in doing so, lost his own footing. With a panicked shout, Tom Paris tumbled 25 meters and landed with a soft thud on the sand. "Shit!" Chakotay hissed, scrambling down the ridge, pissed as hell to owe Paris yet again. He rushed to the lieutenant's side, relieved to find him half conscious. "Lie still, Lieutenant," Chakotay barked, gingerly testing Tom's arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken. "Where does it hurt?" Chakotay asked, realizing immediately what an incredibly stupid question it was, given the fact he had just careened down the side of a mountain. He expected a typically flip response and was surprised when Tom rasped, "I'm okay. I just....I just need a second to catch my breath." Chakotay lifted a surprised brow. Tom's uniform had a hundred rips and tears where the craggy mountain had snagged it; and if nothing else, he had to be scraped raw. "Don't move, Lieutenant," Chakotay ordered. "I'm going to the shuttle to get the medical kit. You could be bleeding internally or cracked a rib, so don't move." "I'm okay, Commander," Tom feebly protested, but Chakotay was already on his feet and headed for the shuttle. He returned a few minutes later to find Tom slipping into unconsciousness. He pointed the medical tricorder at the prone lieutenant and read the results. No internal injuries, that was a good sign; extensive bruising and scraping, no surprise there. There was a nasty cut down Tom's back which was badly bleeding, but other than that, the lieutenant was surprisingly unharmed. Chakotay set the tissue regenerator on top of the medical kit, then started to remove Tom's uniform. Tom moaned and opened his eyes, instantly aware of Chakotay's actions. "What are you doing?" He gasped, pushing the commander's hands away from his uniform fasteners. "Get away from me! Get away from me!" The lieutenant started shaking from head to toe, looking at Chakotay as if he'd just caught the commander selling secrets to the Kazon. Chakotay chalked the reaction up to shock and moved in to continue the first aid. "You have a bad gash on your back, Lieutenant," Chakotay said. "You're losing a lot of blood." Tom pushed the commander off him again and tried to scoot away. "Get away from me!" he cried. The terror in his eyes and voice was enough to set the hair at Chakotay's neck on end "Don't you touch me! Don't touch me!" Chakotay froze for a moment. Tom reminded him of the prisoners he had seen in retention camps during the war. He assumed Paris was flashing back to some unpleasant prison experience. "I'm not going to hurt you, Lieutenant....Tom...But I need to treat your injury." "I'm fine," Tom whispered, eyes wide with panic. "Don't come near me, do you hear? Stay away." Chakotay sighed and pointed the tricorder at the lieutenant. "Well, you're going to pass out from blood loss in a few minutes anyway," he said, glaring at Tom like an irked parent. "Time's on my side, Lieutenant. But we've got four more hours until Voyager's within range and with one of us injured, that's a hell of a lot of fruit I've got to harvest by myself. I'd just as soon start now if you don't mind." Chakotay started to approach the lieutenant, but stopped at the strangled cry of helpless terror from the young man. "You don't understand," he said, twitching in agitation. "It's for your own good, there'll be trouble and then you'll have to go away! No one can know! If you know you have to go away. Please don't touch me, Commander." While Tom mumbled his gibberish, Chakotay routed in the med kit and came away with a hypo he touched to Tom's shoulder. The lieutenant passed out mid-plea. Chakotay quickly unzipped the younger man's uniform and gingerly peeled it off to his waist. Then he carefully removed the turtleneck, which had already started sticking to the dried blood. Chakotay winced in empathy, thankful he'd found something to knock the kid out with. It had to really hurt. Finally, he rolled the lieutenant on to his side and prepared to clean the wound and close it. Chakotay's face suddenly drained of all color and he felt a forceful surge of bile rise to the back of his throat. It was not the cut on Tom's back that horrified him. It was serious enough, but beneath it, to the sides, covering every inch of the lieutenant's fair skin, were the deepest, most virulent scars Chakotay had ever seen. This was what Tom hadn't wanted him to find; had in fact, been willing to bleed out on the surface of some barren, foreign planet, rather than have exposed. Had he been beaten in prison? Chakotay wondered, reaching out to touch one of the welts with a fingertip. It hardly seemed plausible. Anyway, the prison officials would have made damn sure they erased every trace of evidence. Chakotay knew the kid had been injured on Caldik Prime, but surely the scars would have been regenerated if that were the case. Besides, these marks were obviously the results of a beating, not a shuttle crash. Not *a* beating, Chakotay corrected. Beatings. Plural. While no doctor, he could tell the wounds had not been administered all at once, nor with the same tool. No this had been a consistent effort over time. But why hadn't they been healed? And what had Tom been saying before he went out? Something about no one could know or you'd have to go away. Who could make someone 'go away' simply for knowing about this? The realization dawned on Chakotay with an almost physical force and another swell of bile threatened. "Your father did this," he said in a voice raw with horror and disbelief. He shook his head to clear out the jumble of thoughts and quickly addressed the task at hand. He cleaned the most recent wound, grimacing at its depth. The regenerator went to work and in just a few minutes, there was nothing to show for all the trouble except a thin red line down the lietenant's back, which would probably heal by morning. Not that it mattered. The kid's back was a battlefield; one more battle would hardly even register. Chakotay covered the lieutenant with a blanket and wondered how a man could do something so heinous to his own son. Stunned, Chakotay sat there in the sand, rearranging everything he'd ever thought about the brash young lieutenant. He thought Tom had grown up with the universe handed to him on a silver platter; unable to appreciate anything because he'd never had to suffer for it. He'd actually said that to B'Elanna, he thought shamefully. Something about Tom never having to suffer for what he really wanted in this life, which explained the weakness of his character. He shook his head, wondering why Tom went to such great lengths to perpetuate the image of a pampered playboy ...well, not so hard to figure out really. He probably preferred people thinking he was a spoiled brat to some helpless....victim. With a final sigh, Chakotay positioned Tom so he was out of the sun, then he returned to the mountainside and resumed harvesting. An hour before Voyager was due to beam them back, Chakotay climbed down and arranged the food to be transported, then he went to check on Tom. The lieutenant was struggling to consciousness, opening his eyes and blinking in confusion. "You're okay, Lieutenant," Chakotay said, his tone much gentler than Tom had ever heard aimed at him. "Do you remember what happened?" Tom licked his dry lips, blinking hard to get Chakotay's face to focus. "We were....picking fruit and I....I fell," Tom rasped. "I'm....I'm sorry, Commander. We only had a few hours to get the food and now....now..." "It's okay," Chakotay said, holding Tom's shoulder until the lieutenant stilled. "You seem to have forgotten the reason you fell was because *I* lost my footing. You were trying to keeping me from sailing off the ridge. Guess I owe you again, Lieutenant." Something in Chakotay's voice was confusing Tom. The commander never spoke to him like that, like they were....friends or something. Then Tom realized he wasn't wearing the top of his uniform and he remembered what happened before he lost consciousness. He sucked in a huge intake of air, feeling more endangered than he could remember since joining Voyager. He looked wildly around him then up at Chakotay, seeing his secret in the commander's face. "I fell down a lot," he whispered, desperately grabbing at Chakotay's arm. "I fell....off my bike. I'm....I'm clumsy and I....I fell down." Chakotay's heart pounded in double time, trying to fathom the kind of terror that would make Tom cover for a man 70,000 light years away. "He can't hurt you here," Chakotay said softly. Tom brought his hand to his forehead, nervously brushing it through his blond hair. "You don't understand what he'll do if he finds out you know. He'll make you go away like the others; you don't know what he can do...." "He can't hurt you," Chakotay repeated slowly, trying to keep Tom from moving around. Tom shook his head. "I have to....please Commander, my shirt," Tom said, eyes pleading. Chakotay found the discarded shirt and handed it over to the Lieutenant, ducking his head at Tom's shame. "Please don't tell anyone," Tom said in a quiet voice, unable to look at the Commander. "Of course not," Chakotay said, reaching out to help the shaky lieutenant stand. Tom flinched and drew back. Chakotay withdrew his hand and stepped away. Blushing crimson, Tom said, "I'm sorry. I get....I get spooked sometimes." Chakotay nodded his understanding and motioned for Tom to take his place next to the food they'd collected. "Commander, I don't suppose....I don't suppose we could just....I mean, I don't think I really need to report to Sickbay over this, do I?" Chakotay wished he could accommodate the breach in protocol; he found himself wishing, quite profoundly, that he could do something to prove his attitude had changed toward the young lieutenant. He had no choice but to shake his head at the request. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I might have missed something. The holodoc will have to clear you for duty. Hasn't he....I mean, surly when you had your physicals for Starfleet....." Tom shrugged carelessly, like he'd known what the answer would be. "I've never had a Starfleet physical," he said, staring off in the distance at something that wasn't there. "My...father always took care of that kind of thing." "But since you've been on the Voyager...." "Since I've been on Voyager, the doctor is a hologram. It's different--I guess he only makes note of current conditions, so my record's clean." He was quiet for a moment. "Commander, please don't let Kes see." He swiped at the sweat on his forehead with a shaking hand. Chakotay shrugged his acquiescence. When Voyager hailed them, Chakotay explained that Tom had sustained a minor injury and asked that they be beamed directly to Sickbay. The holodoc was activated and Chakotay explained what had happened and the first aid he'd applied. In a low voice, while Tom waited nervously on a biobed, Chakotay said, "Doctor, Tom's rather... embarassed by this and, well, he'd just prefer it if Kes weren't here for...." "Since you are the one who attended to the lieutenant's wound, I assume you mean that Lt. Paris doesn't want Kes to see the results of the abuse he sustained as a child," the doctor said cooly. Chakotay's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Tom seems to think you're unaware of it," he said. The doctor shrugged. "The lieutenant has so many hairline fractures and welts upon his body, it's really the only possible conclusion I could draw. However, when the patient is a Starfleet crew member over the age of 18, I'm programmed to maintain silence about this situation, unless approached by the patient. Lt. Paris has given no indication he wishes to discuss what happened to him as a child, so I've said nothing." "Well, I'm pretty sure he'd like to keep it that way," Chakotay said. The doctor nodded briskly while Chakotay moved to leave. "Everything's okay, Tom," he said, pausing next to the lieutenant, careful not to touch him. He looked hard at Tom's eyes, hoping the lieutenant would read the layers of meaning in his statement. Tom merely nodded, his face its usual controlled mask. It seemed such an obvious coping mechanism now that Chakotay chided himself for labelling it arrogance in the past. How could he have possibly mistaken the two? Captain Janeway was waiting for him in the hall. "Is Tom all right?" she asked. Chakotay nodded and told her about the fall and Tom's minor injury. She lifted an amused eyebrow at her first officer. "You didn't throw him off the side, did you?" Chakotay grinned in spite of himself. Gods knew there were times he'd wanted to. The grin faded slowly. "I think....I think I've misjudged Lt. Paris in a lot of ways," he said cryptically. "Perhaps it's time I got to know him better." Janeway took a step back in surprise. "Maybe I was right to send the two of you down there together," she said with a smile. "Don't tell me blowing out the warp core was just an elaborate scheme to make friends of me and Tom," Chakotay said. Janeway smiled wickedly. "Well then, I won't," she said, motioning for Chakotay to lead the way back to the bridge.

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. ========================================================================= PART 2 CHAPTER ONE (cont'd) Three days later, Tom Paris awoke with a shout. "Lights on!" he called, breathing hard. The lights came up and he looked about his room to make sure he was on Voyager, in the Delta Quadrant. Safe. Gods he was hot. He kicked off his covers, wiping the sweat from his face. He was dripping wet. Tom got out of bed and had to catch himself on the bedside table when a wave of dizziness threatened to send him sprawling. Suddenly; his quarters became deathly cold and he started shivering with chills. Man, he felt awful. He'd hardly eaten since getting back from the planet; he'd thought he was just freaked about Chakotay learning the truth, but now he wasn't so sure. Fuck. Tom wrapped the blanket from his bed around his shoulders and sank to the floor, shuddering violently. He rocked back and forth, trying to ward off the growing panic. Maybe his father was making this happen to him. Since he couldn't beat on him from this far away, maybe this was how we would exact his punishment. Tom winced, knowing he was being crazy, but still kind of believing it anyway. He decided to try and stand up and made it about halfway up before a hot torrent of vomit spewed from his mouth. Fuck! He stumbled to the bathroom and puked yellow bile into the toilet. When his stomach calmed, he collapsed on the cool tile floor and rested for a little while, finding it impossibly difficult to think about what he should do. "What time is it?" he croaked. The computer pleasantly replied, "It is 19 hours 32 minutes." Think! Tom admonished himself. He crawled back to the bedroom, nearly gagging at the stench of vomit. If he went to sickbay, Kes was sure to find out the truth; he had to protect her from that. He felt so sick, though. There had to be something he could do. Why was it so hard to think? He found his comm badge and activated it. "Paris to Chakotay." "Chakotay here." The voice sound neutral, even a little curious. "Commander, could I...could I talk to you in my quarters?" "Of course," said Chakotay, sounding oddly pleased. "I'll be right there. Chakotay out." Tom thought he should try to clean up the mess, but barely had enough energy to pull the blanket up around him and make his way to the couch. Relief swelled in his chest when Chakotay buzzed at his door. The commander walked in, repelling at the odor, then looked worriedly at Tom, trembling on the couch. "Tom, what's wrong?" he asked. "I d-d-don't know," Tom stuttered. "I g-g-guess I'm sick. I....I thought m-m-maybe you could fix it." He looked up at the commander, eyes round as saucers; the most nakedly innocent look Chakotay had ever seen. His heart melted at the lieutenant's trust. "Tom, we'll go to Sickbay. The doctor will be able to fix you right up." Tom shook his head, but stopped because it made the nausea worse. "You fixed everything on the planet," he reminded the commander. "Can't you just....you know, do it again?" Chakotay sighed and looked around for a tricorder. He pointed it at Tom. His temperature was 104(, he noted with alarm and none of the other readings made any sense to him. "Tom, I don't know what's wrong. We need the doctor." Tom's face fell as he shook his head. "I'm okay," he mumbled. Chakotay took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The kid had been a mess since they got back from the planet--dark circles of sleeplessness bruising his face; missing simple commands on the bridge; retreating, like a wounded puppy, to his quarters after his shift. Chakotay was relieved to see now it was because he was ill and not simply traumatized by having his secret out. Chakotay had tried to make himself available to the young man without being overbearing--a situation the normally staid commander was finding increasingly difficult. If he didn't know better, he'd think he'd become obsessed with the pilot. He'd taken to hovering around Sandrine's, loitering at the replimat, reminding the lieutenant numerous times he was available if he needed to talk. Chakotay gingerly sat down next to Tom. "I don't know how to help you," he repeated in a gentle voice. "But you've got a really high fever, Tom and I'm worried. I'd hate it if something happened to you." "You would?" Tom's voice was such a mixture of surprised delight that Chakotay felt a lump swell at the back of his throat. "Of course, I would," Chakotay answered. "So let's go to Sickbay and get this thing cleared up, okay?" Tom wasn't ready yet. He shook his head and shrank back into the pillows of the couch. Chakotay inched a little closer. "Tom, would you feel any different if I told you the doctor already knows what happened to you?" Tom's whole body sagged in consummate disappointment. "You told him?" he asked, tears pooling in his blue eyes. "You said you wouldn't..." "Oh no, Tom, no, I didn't tell him," Chakotay hastened to explain. "I guess it's pretty easy for him to figure out things like this--you know, he can see where you had broken bones and things like that. I gave you my word, Tom. No one will learn this from me." Tom was sweating again. It was hard to think. "I guess...I'm not sure....what I'm supposed to do," he stammered worriedly. "We're going to go to Sickbay," Chakotay said, deciding for him. He looked around around for a clean shirt, dressed the lieutenant and helped him to stand. "But Kes will be there and she'll....she'll find out," Tom remembered when they were almost out the door. "I'll help the doctor," Chakotay said. "He won't need to call for Kes." Tom nodded hesitently and with an anxious look back at his quarters, let himself be led to Sickbay. ++++++++++++++++++++ Twelve hours later, Chakotay was exhausted, the doctor was irritable, and they were no closer to healing Tom's illness than when they started. The doctor had identified the viral agent causing his symptoms and determined he contracted it through the open wound on the planet. Unfortunately, the doctor couldn't find a drug the virus would respond to. Tom's fever continued to climb, levelling off at a steep 105(. He sighed as the doctor took another blood sample. "I'm going to be sick," he said quietly, struggling to his side. Chakotay helped him to sit, holding the bed pan while Tom retched. Tom slumped tiredly when he was finished, saying nothing as Chakotay cleaned him up. Not much pride left after 12 hours of puking all over the place. He'd finally stopped apologizing when Chakotay, only half joking, ordered him to cut it out, but he still felt humilated and helpless. "You must be tired," Tom rasped. His throat hurt from all the vomitting but just the thought of drinking water made his stomach rumble ominously. "I'm all right," Chakotay said. "Hell, I'd rather be doing this than working on the duty roster." Tom's eyes widened in surprise as he watched Chakotay empty out the bedpan. "Boy, that must be a *really* shitty job," he said. Chakotay laughed. It was the first remotely smart ass comment he'd heard the lieutenant make since their return from the planet and he took it as a good sign. Chakotay set the bed pan aside and returned to Tom with a cool cloth he used to wipe down his face and chest. He'd stopped flinching every time Chakotay touched him which relieved the commander. He was starting to feel like some oversized brute whenever he got near the kid. "Why can't the doctor fix what's wrong?" Tom asked in a low voice. Wondering the same thing, Chakotay shrugged his broad shoulders. "Our sensors don't recognize the virus in your blood stream," he said, parrotting what the doctor had told him earlier. "Since they don't recognize it, it hard to figure out which drugs will cure it. Right now, the doctor is loading as much information into the computer as he can so he can find a virus we've already identified which is most like this one, then he'll know what medication to give you." Tom shivered and burrowed under the covers. "I keep thinking maybe my father... maybe he's making me get sick 'cause I let you find out what happened. Pretty....pretty crazy, huh?" Chakotay felt that lump in his throat again. "That's *not* what's happening," he said gently, wondering if Tom had ever felt truly safe in his entire life. "But it's hardly crazy that you'd think so. I can see how it might be pretty easy to come to that conclusion." Tom looked oddly at the commander. "It's kind of....kind of weird, you being so nice to me and everything." Chakotay chuckled. "I bet it does seem kind of weird, Lieutenant. I guess it took a fall off a mountain for me to figure out I misjudged you." Tom smiled back unexpectedly. He looked vulnerable and a little hopeful and all of ten years old, and Chakotay had to actually refrain from hugging him. Gods, talk about weird, the commander thought. He lightly touched Tom's hair, surprised at its softness. "Why don't you try to sleep a little," he suggested. Tom nervously furrowed his brows. "The dreams keep coming. I get....all mixed up about what's real...." "Well I'm here now," Chakotay said. "I'll make sure you don't get mixed up, so you just relax and try to get some rest." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ After grabbing a few hours sleep on the vacant biobed next to Tom's, Chakotay woke and immediately turned to the doctor who pursed his lips and shook his head. Kes was with him in the lab, having promised she wouldn't actually tend to the young lieutenant. Her easy acceptance of the request, coupled with the absolute absence of curiosity made Chakotay think she knew the truth as well. Chakotay yawned and checked the readings over Tom's head. His temperature was still lingering around 105(. The other readings made no sense, but he had a feeling they weren't very encouraging. He was thinking about taking a shower when the stench of urine wafted through the room and he realized Tom had wet himself. Knowing how humiliating it would be to wake up in soiled clothing, Chakotay hastened to clean him up. He removed the lieutenant's underwear and dipped a cloth in warm water. As his cleansing motion moved downward, Chakotay was revolted to see scars, more horrific than those on his back, covering Tom's penis. These were puckered burn marks made by a torture device. Chakotay's vision was momentarily clouded by a murderous black rage. What kind of *monster*; what kind of *abomination* would do such a thing? He quickly finished and dressed the young lieutenant. Giving in to temptation, he lightly brushed the damp hair from Tom's sweaty forehead. And what, gods preserve him, does it do to the child who's on the receiving end? With a depressed sigh, Chakotay called the captain to report the no change status. She shook her head in frustration; her face lined with worry. She thanked Chakotay for remaining with the lieutenant and he felt guilty for allowing the assumption that he was doing some kind of favor for the frightened young man. The thought of being anywhere else was impossible. With characteristic patience, Chakotay assumed he would sort out his bizarre feelings for Tom when the lieuteant had recovered. As it was, he simply ignored them as best he could and went about his business. Promising to inform Janeway if there was any change, Chakotay clicked off. In the shower, he found himself wondering about Janeway's concern for the kid. It seemed somehow more pronounced than when other crew members had been sick or injured. She'd served with the kid's father. Did she perhaps suspect? No, that was impossible. She'd said numerous times how much she'd respected the great admiral. Mayber her interest in the lieutenant went deeper than mere professional esteem. Chakotay froze, stunned by the onslought of jealousy coursing through his system. Jealous? Of Janeway? Oh come on, sure the kid was handsome in an all-Earth, Starfleet Fly Boy kind of way, but gods! Okay, so he had lusted after the kid when he first saw him swaggering around the Maquis ship back in the Alpha Quadrant. And maybe Paris had been the featured player in one or two of his torrid wet dreams, but this wild, out-of-control emotion he felt whenever he thought about the man; that was somewhere out of the nether regions. Of course, when he had time to meditate on it, he was sure there was some easy explanation for the whole thing. Probably the same way an injured person latches on to their caregiver, the caregiver probably latches on to the injured person, that sounded good. Gods, he was carrying like a lovesick teenager. Chakotay finished his shower, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're an old man, Chakotay," he told his reflection in the mirror. "And it has been fa-a-a-a-r too long, so just get a grip for gods sake." When Chakotay returned to Sickbay, Tom was awake and scared. His relieved smiled made Chakotay feel slightly guilty for being gone. "I thought you went away," Tom said weakly. "I didn't....didn't want to ask the doctor 'cause I was afraid of what he'd say." Chakotay returned Tom's smile and cautiously came closer, having learned sudden movements unnerved the younger man. "I'm not going anywhere, Lieutenant," he assured Tom. "I'm staying right here 'til this whole mess is cleared up." "I still don't get it, Commander." Tom said, eyes drawn in confusion. "I mean, you don't have to be nice to me just because," Tom shrugged and lowered his voice to a conspiritorial whisper, "because, you know." Chakotay looked away for a moment. Shit, what else would the lieutenant think? A few days ago he could barely look at Tom Paris without rolling his eyes in disgust, and now here he was, fawning over the kid like some kind of devoted old man. Chakotay tried to put himself in Tom's place, something he'd never done with the lieutenant--and a technique his father espoused since he was boy. The ability to empathize was one of man's greatest gifts from the gods, according to his father. It taught you the strengths and weaknesses of enemy and friend alike and often taught you more about yourself than you'd think possible. From Tom's perspective, the only thing worse than someone knowing his secret would be their suddenly feeling *sorry* for him because of it. Chakotay didn't know what to say to the sick young man; how to explain to him that Chakotay's presence had much to do with assuaging his guilt for being so hard on the lieutenant, for attributing to him the lush, spoiled life so far from his reality. Chakotay glanced heavenward and hoped his words would be inspired by some divine intervention. "Tom, I believe all things happen for a reason. I may not know the reason now--I may never know it; but I believe this life to be more than a serious of random events. I'm starting to think the gods pushed me on that mountainside for a reason; sent you tumbling to the ground, knowing what I would learn." "Why?" asked Tom, eyes as round as a child's listening to a fascinating bedtime story. Chakotay shrugged. "I don't know for sure. My spirit guide doesn't seem ready to tell me. Or perhaps I'm not ready to know." With another shrug, Chakotay offered his own hypothesis. "You may not know this Lieutenant, but I tend to be a very judgemental guy." "No, you?" Tom teased, a brief smiling lighting his gaunt face. Chakotay involuntarily grinned back. "I know, I know. You can hardly believe it. Well, take my word for it, I am. I tend to judge quickly and set my conclusions in stone. I tell myself it's being decisive, but perhaps its just being blind...and deaf. Closedmindedness is the easy way out of a lot of decisions and I've been taking the easy way out with you, Lieutenant. Perhaps all of this was engineered to show me that. To teach me that what I think is the truth is so universally, colossally incorrect, I need to reexamine everything I think of as an absolute; to reevaluate based on the truth and not just what's easiest for me to believe." Tom flashed his eyes and leaned back as if the explanation had tired him. "Wow," he said quietly. A chill shook him and he gathered the blankets closer to him. Another teasing grin. "Next time the gods decide to mess with your mind, I wish they'd use *your* blood stream," he said, blushing when Chakotay laughed. The grin faded and Tom looked up at Chakotay's dark brown eyes. "Seeing what you want to see is sometimes more a curse than seeing what's really there. Someone told me that once." Chakotay's heart skipped a beat. It was precisely, almost word for word, what he was thinking. Now his heart pounded in double time to make up for the beat it missed. Where had he heard that saying? He'd assumed from his father, but then how would Tom know it? Maybe he'd read it in a book, or more likely in some Starfleet philosophy course. He looked at Tom in startled amazement and said, "That's it! That's exactly what I meant." Tom shifted uncomfortably in the bed, gripping tightly to the sheets as if he might be thrown from his berth at any moment. "Do you think the spirits are telling me something?" he asked, a faintly hopeful gleam in his eyes. Chakotay chewed his bottom lip. It was his not place to interpret the spirits' work in someone else's life, but he had a feeling Tom knew little of spiritual matters. He probably needed guidance in the area. "Perhaps," Chakotay said slowly, "this is a lesson in trust for you. To show you there remain people in this life who mean what they say; who want to help you and see you happy and healthy and safe." Safe. The word made Tom shiver and sharply inhale, as if it caused a physical pain somewhere. He seemed to be looking for a place to rest his eyes and ended up self-consciously watching his hands open and close around the sheet. "Maybe they're just trying to tell me to keep off mountain tops," he said with a smirk. Chakotay very gently held Tom's chin so he was forced to look him in the eye. "I think the spirits have much more in store for you, Tom Paris." Just as gently, Tom disengaged himself from Chakotay's hold, looking up at the commander with a mixture of skeptism and awe. Apparently the awe won out. The lieutenant blinked a couple of times, then averted his eyes once more. "You might just be right, Commander," he said, and blushed clear to the roots of his pretty blond hair. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Tom spoke little the rest of the day. The persisting fever left him listless and disoriented. Short visits by Harry and B'Elanna failed to even register. Twice he'd nearly choked on his own vomit when he started to throw up while lying on his back. Chakotay heard the doctor and Kes ruminating about the failure of some internal organs and towards evening, Tom suffered a violent seizure and appeared to be falling in to a coma. It seemed unreal to Chakotay; the young lieutenant flailing helplessly in the grips of the convulsions, choking for air, then when it was finished, vomitting up a thick, creamy substance and groaning as if a ton weight rested on his chest. Did he know what was happening? Chakotay wondered; was he frightened? The commander was inexorably upset when Kes shooed him from the lieutenant's bedside. Surely they understood Tom needed someone there; someone to hold his hand and tell him everything was going to be all right. Everything *was* going to be all right, wasn't it? Harry and B'Elanna were sitting out in the waiting area, but no one else came. Chakotay grew angrier and angrier as the hours passed and not a single crew member even inquired about the lieutenant. Chakotay wondered if he would have bothered had he not accompanied Tom to the planet's surface. As First Officer, he would have been interested in how it effected his duty roster, but other than that he wouldn't had given Tom Paris another thought, let alone any sympathy. In all probability, he would have blamed the lieutenant for his predicament. When Tom had a second seizure, Chakotay was asked to join Harry and B'Elanna in the waiting area. The three of them watched the lieutenant's struggle through the glass enclosure. Harry surreptisiously swiped at his eye and sighed at Chakotay's knowing glance. "Why can't they cure this?" he asked Chakotay. The commander could only shrug and shake his head. Harry sighed and turned back to where the doctor and Kes were frantically pumping medication into the now motionless lieutenant. "He got really drunk a couple of months ago," Harry said quietly, looking sideways at the commander to see how he'd react to the rule infraction. It didn't appear to register, so Harry continued. "I walked him home....just to make sure he didn't....you know, pick a fight or something. We got to his door and he gives me this look; like there's totally nothing left inside him; and it really freaked me out. I remembered thinking if I left him by himself he was going to do something really stupid...I made some pretense of hanging out with him; something about Henley and her crowd having a party on my wing, but he didn't buy it. Just gave me this look like he knew everything going on in my head and kind of smirked at me and said, 'Harry, I bet you were the little kid always bringing home damaged little pets you were going to fix up and make right.' Then he just went inside and closed his door and the next day it was like nothing had happened." Harry shook his head, moving closer to the glass. "The way he looked when he said it--'damaged little pets,'--it really tore me up. That's how he sees himself, you know? Damaged....worthless. Sometimes for a brief second--for a day or two or three, he talks himself out of it, but something always happens and he's right back where he started. And now I'm afraid....I'm afraid even if he does have the strength to pull through this, he may not have the will." Chakotay stood shoulder to shoulder with the ensign and stared at the lifeless body of Tom Paris. "That's not going to be a problem, Mr. Kim," he said with icy conviction. "Because I have enough will for the both of us." He welcomed the shocked stares of Harry and B'Elanna, their incredulity somehow bolstering his resolve. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The Sickbay was dark and deserted, and Chakotay couldn't understand what had made him wake up until he felt Kes' delicate hand on his shoulder. "Commander? I think we've found a solution of sorts." "Is Tom okay?" Chakotay asked, sitting up and wiping the sleep out of his eyes. He looked hopefully at Kes. Kes sat down next to the commander. "The doctor thinks he will be. It's not a cure we've found, so much as a treatment. We haven't found anything that will rid Tom's system of the contagion, but the doctor has discovered a medication that interferes with it--sort of tricks it into thinking it's causing harm, when really it's doing nothing. We gave Tom a dose a few hours ago and the seizures have stopped. His temperature is down to 102( and we were able to reverse the damage to his kidneys." "So he's going to be okay?" Chakotay repeated, not quite sure why Kes was explaining in such a round about way that the lieutenant was cured. "For now, he'll be fine," Kes said carefully. "The doctor thinks this is only a temporary measure. From what we can tell, the virus is highly adaptable and will eventually figure out a way around the medication we're using. The doctor feels certain he can find an actual cure before that occurs, but Tom will have to have his health monitored on a weekly basis to make sure there is no relapse." Chakotay offered a tentative smile, reaching out to squeeze Kes' hand. "You've been terrific through this, Kes. I'm not sure you realize how lucky Voyager is to have you." Kes smiled at the praise. "He's awake Commander. And asking for you." Chakotay walked carefully to Tom's side, as if he not only had to be careful of the lieutenant, but of the space around him. He gingerly placed his large hand over Tom's smaller one. "Hey," Tom rasped in a voice so soft, Chakotay had to lean down to hear him. "I'm still here." His tone was half disbelief, half defiance and Chakotay chuckled softly in relief. "Like we thought a stubborn ass, hot shot like you was going anywhere without a fight," he said, smiling as a flicker of amusement registered on Tom's face. Chakotay lightly brushed his fingers through Tom's hair. "You get some rest, Lieutenant," he said. "The captain will want to know that you're all right. And I think the betting crowd at Sandrine's has some settling up to do." Tom smiled. Chakotay was struck by how beautiful the lieutenant was when a smile reached all the way up to his eyes--pity it so rarely happened. The commander leaned in and whispered, "I heard Ensign Walker had you at five to one to kick it. I'm going to track him down and tell him he's on report unless he gives you half the pot." Tom laughed weakly, never taking his eyes from Chakotay's smiling face. The commander was shocked with Tom reached up and touched his cheek with his fingertips, like a child mesmerized by its parent's face. ‘Begay was right,’ he whispered as sleep came suddenly to take him. ‘You do hold the future of us all in the palm of your hand.’ A strobe light of confusion followed swifly by understanding exploded in Chakotay’s head. *That* was where he’d heard the line, about *seeing what you want to see* being a curse. Joseph Begay, the once exaulted Maquis mastermind. What in the *hell* was Tom Paris doing quoting Begay, not once but twice? Another strobe light of memory and emotion and despair. Chakotay remembered the riotous rush to embark on the mission that ended with all of them in the Delta quadrant; remembered learning with bitterness and spite of Tom Paris’ place at Voyager’s conn; remembered his stinging indictment of Joseph Begay who for so long vouched for the integrity of the Starfleet reject. Begay was a bitter old man by then; no longer the brilliant strategist; merely a bothersome hanger-on, reliving old battles and nursing personal injustices. His trusting Tom Paris, an obvious Federation plant, would be the end of all of them, Chakotay had shouted, *shouted* at the frail old man. It was time Begay left the fighting to those whose judgment was still in tact; to those who knew a worthless, spoiled scoundrel when they saw him, to those who knew better than to trust a ‘fleet bred, silver saddle good for nothing loser. Chakotay heard the string of epithets burning through his mind; heard himself screaming them at the cowering old man. Well, he *thought* Begay was cowering. When Chakotay paused to catch his breath, Joseph Begay’s eyes flashed with an intensity Chakotay felt like heat and with effortless ease, he slammed the young warrior against the bulk head of the ship and muttered in a low, nasty voice, ‘May you see what you want to see and not what’s really there.’ Chakotay angrily brushed Begay aside and continued to prepare for the mission. After both men had time to calm, Begay returned to Chakotay and handed him a data clip. ‘I would like you to play this clip after I have gone to the other side,’ Begay said solemnly. ‘And take care of that which needs to be taken care of.’ It was a rather cryptic message; Chakotay remembered being annoyed at the Begay’s sense of drama. He’d shoved the clip in his pocket, later shoving it in a drawer, later shoving it in a backpack and later still storing it in a drawer somewhere in his quarters. Suddenly Chakotay was running through the corridors. It took twenty desperate minutes of searching; six overturned desk drawers and a nearly ransacked closet, but he found the clip and set it on the desk top, looking at it as if it might explode at any moment. Technically, Joseph Begay wasn’t on the other side--not as far as he knew. Then again, given the probability of their return to the Alpha Quadrant, he wasn’t in any danger of finding out Chakotay played the tape before his demise either. He considered approaching his spirit guide on the ethical quandry, but Chakotay knew himself too well; knew he wanted this too badly to be put off by any kind of warning from her. No, there was no decision to be made here. Chakotay got the feeling all the decisions had been made a long time ago by forces much more powerful than he.

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. ========================================================================= PART 3 CHAPTER ONE (cont'd) The face of Joseph Begay stared intently at Chakotay from the computer screen. "I saw in your face this morning much of the anger and bitterness that are now my life's blood, Chakotay. If you are not careful, you will become an old, lonely man like me before you realize the fruitlessness of such a life. It's too late for me, my young friend, but perhaps; perhaps I can show you the error of my ways and earn some measure of forgiveness from the gods I've disappointed so much. I have done things out of rage and hatred; in the quest of bitter vengence, for which I am ashamed; things which, even now, I am too ashamed to face, so I am taking a coward's way out--attempting to make right that which I have so wronged, but avoiding any repercussions for my actions. You were correct when you said Tom Paris was a plant; you were simply mistaken about which side he was planted in. I first contacted Tom when he was 16 years old. He was in the hospital after a particularly nasty beating from his father. Does that surprise you, Chakotay? You see, our Tom Paris is not quite the priviledged, golden boy you so revile. We'd had our eye on Admiral Paris for quite some time; we had maids in his home and grounds keepers on his estate and we knew for *years* the kind of monster he was. Years, Chakotay. Think of it. Years of the morally superior Maquis knowing the boy was being tortured by that beast and we did *nothing.* Oh, our first thought was to expose the admiral for the abusive demon he was, but after Aaron died, after he killed my son, I decided otherwise. I decided the admiral would pay for my son's life with the life of his own son, and I began immediately with my plan. At this time I was working as a Starfleet instructor and I ingratiated myself in young Tom's life. I encouraged him in his studies; praised him for his successes; pretended to believe his stories of falls down stairs and off of bikes while I soothed his wounds and all the while I was boiling with hatred that this boy; this son of Eugene Paris, was living and breathing when my Aaron was gone. Of course, Tom suspected nothing. How could he? Why would he let himself? He'd known nothing but anger and violence his entire life. So desperate was he for some shred of kindness in his life that by the time I revealed my existence as a Maquis, he swore he would do anything I asked of him--retrieving data from his father's files, relaying sensitive strategic plans for fighting the Maquis--anything I wanted. Can you imagine, Chakotay? A 16 year old boy, beaten to submission from his first sentient moment, willing to defy this almighty ogre for our humble cause? I should have rejoiced at his bravery; celebrated the spirited heart still beating in this most damaged young man. But I could see none of this at the time. I only saw the son of the man who'd killed my boy, and I dreamed of the moment when the son of the great Admiral Paris was revealed to all as a Maquis soldier; I relived in my mind over and over the media's gleeful reaction; the admiral's abject defeat; his absolute humiliation in the eyes of Starfleet. I dreamt of it each night; this seething need for vengence became the air I breathed and the blood that was in my veins. And still Tom suspected nothing. He went to the Academy, careful, mind you, not to excel too noticeably. He's brilliant, you know. Not just a gifted pilot, but an excellent student as well. He could have had firsts in everything without much effort, but I wouldn't hear of it. He was instructed not to call too much attention to himself, which meant enduring the insane rants and rages of that animal that was his father, accepted only grudingly by his peers who assumed this average student was riding his father's coat tails. I know now he wanted that Starfleet career. Wanted it like he'd never allowed himself to want anything in his life. Wanted to show that bastard what he was made of; wanted to show everyone who thought he'd been handed everything what he could accomplish; wanted to fly a starship as far away from the Alpha quadrant as he could get. But I made sure it was too late for any of that. He was serving two masters at this point--me and his father; and it pains me to admit my cruelty was not to be outdone. I told the boy I was testing him; testing his loyalty and devotion, trying to decide if he was truly worthy of my respect. I would make him strip, Chakotay, parade his scarred and damaged body in front of me, revelling, *revelling* in his shame and degredation. I made him kneel in front of me and swear his allegience; forced him to stand at attention while I molested him; all the while delerious at his debasement; mocking his tears and heartache; turning a deaf ear to his pleading whispers. He was alive and my Aaron was not, and I could not forgive him for it. Eventually, I became impatient for my plan to congeal. It was *years* in the making and the payoff was centimeters from my grasp. I knew the gods were behind me when the accident on Caldik Prime occurred. I convinced the boy to cover it up; convinced him to admit his deceit and watched with glee as he was drummed out of the fleet. He'd begged me to do it another way; to let him keep him commission, but I wouldn't hear of it. Everything I'd worked for; everything I'd dreamed of was almost in my grasp, why would I stop now in the face of his desperate appeals? No, I made him see how much more good he would do the cause if he flew for the Maquis. His father wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and good riddance to the devil, I said. Tom belonged with me, with the Maquis, fighting the Federation's injustice--and who knew better than he what kind of raging injustices there were. I held out the offer of kindness and belonging and it was like haze to a hazie. He was incapable of refusing. All that was left to do was plan his flight, arrange an expendable crew, and make sure Starfleet received an anonymous tip about the mission and who would by flying it. I watched him take off, Chakotay, laughing, ecstatic, counting down the minutes until his arrest, his deportation to Earth, his trial. I thought my heart would beat through my chest, thought the blood boiling in my ears would explode for all to see. I thought I was happy the day Aaron was born--it was nothing to this demented, frenzy of joy. To my mind, the only thing worse than burying a son would be having one live in shame and disgrace for the rest of his life, so I was exacting on Admiral Paris that worst living hell I could imagine. Of course, everything went according to plan--the arrest, the trial. I couldn't lose Chakotay--Starfleet knew Tom was a Maquis plain and simple; the Maquis all thought he was a Starfleet plant. The worst they could say about me was poor old Joseph Begay--so distraught over the loss of his son, he blindly accepts the Starfleet plant. A misjudgement from the old Maquis. Perfectly understandable. Meanwhile, I'm watching it all with incomprehensible delight, but only toward the end of the trial, do I realize, it's *not* going according to plan. Admiral Paris barely seems touched by the incident. He disowns the boy in court, in *public* for all to hear. Defiantly goes before the media villifying his son with more contempt than I thought possible. There was no vengence on Eugene Paris; no triumph of my hatred and dispair; Paris didn't care enough about his son to view his failures as some sort of reflection on him. Tom simply became a mistake; no more than so much filth to be wiped from his shoe without a second thought. I realized then that the boy had never been anything but a tool; a prop in the great admiral's picture perfect life--and when he no longer became useful, he was easily discarded without a second thought. You would think this understanding would endear the forsaken boy to me; would somehow wake me up from the nightmare of vengence and retribution. But, like I said, it was too late for me. Too many years of my life had been wrapped up in this bitter, twisted plan and now I was livid; so incredibly angry that this child did not even merit a single moment of remorse from the great admiral. I wanted to kill him. Oh no, not the admiral--Tom. I wanted him dead that I should waste so much of my life for a payoff that never came. I was the first visitor he had in prison. He was a wreck--no favorite of the inmates already. His face was bruised and he looked dazed. I wonder now if he even knew where he was. He apologized to me of course, in that desperate, wild eyed way of his, begging my forgiveness for getting caught, not understanding how it was that Starfleet was lying in wait for them; knowing he had misread the sensors or the nav charts, promising when he was released it would never happen again. Gods forgive me, Chakotay, but I hated him. Hated him for living; for pleading with me; for surviving his miserable, god foresaken life when my son who'd had everything to live for was lying cold in the ground. So I hit him. With every ounce of strength I had, I backhanded Tom Paris and stood over him, waiting for the pain and the confusion to die down and then I spoke to him. I said, 'You stupid, *stupid* boy! Don't you understand *anything.* Are you as ignorant and worthless as you seem? Don't you understand that this was planned from the start? That you have been a puppet; that you haven't made a single, solitairy move on your own since you were a child?' And he looked up at me with those haunted eyes of his and merely asked, 'Planned?' And I told him everything, knowing, even then, he would never betray me by revealing any of it, doing it just to be as cruel and hateful as I possibly could. I told him his father killed my son and the only way I knew to make him pay was to take his son in kind. And I watched the understanding dawn in his face; watched him swallow the bile in his throat, and I laughed at him. I laughed at him and said every time I touched him I wanted to vomit; that talking to him and petting him and telling him what a brilliant and able pilot he was had made me physically ill more times than I cared to count. I belittled him as best I could, watching his internal disintigration with sick joy. He was shaking like a man in shock, and I suppose he was, although there was a kind of relief to him--like the other shoe had finally dropped and there was no more waiting for it. I watched him stand and back up several paces from me. And when he looked into my eyes, I knew I'd succeeded. There was nothing looking back at me. He was as dead and lifeless inside as he would be if I'd actually cut his heart out and impaled it on a stick. He shook his head sadly and for a moment; a brief moment, his face flooded with sympathy and he said to me, 'Oh Begay, I could have told you that hurting me wouldn't have put a dent in him.' And then he simply wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, turned away and called for the guard to return him to his cell. That's the end, my friend. I kept tabs for awhile, atrociously amused to hear of a beating or a rules infraction. Disgustingly safe from any retribution because he'd have to be alive for that and I had effectively killed him. But time passed. I no longer had my brilliant scheme to occupy my time, so I was left alone with my thoughts, with the shame of the spirits swirling in my wake. Aaron began visiting me in my dreams, his hurt and regret at my actions disturbing the peace he deserved. He pleaded with me nightly to make this right; to undo what I had done. I resisted at first; I tried to explain to him the terrible injustice he'd suffered and how someone had to pay for it. And he reminded me that if there was an injustice, it was his to address; and making this poor, lonely boy his scapegoat was a far worse travesty of justice than any he'd been made to suffer. I was so ashamed that my son; the boy I'd sworn to guide to manhood, to whom I'd pledged my wisdom and experience; that my son should be teaching me the very basics of decency was the shove I needed. I placed a call to a sympethyizer in the Starfleet high command. A person who was well aware of the baggage Tom Paris carried--and of who was most responsible. This person, unencumbered by Admiral Paris' power and position, was encouraged to give young Paris a second chance on a starship chasing Maquis in the Badlands, and so he was recruited to fly the USS Voyager. I thought perhaps my debt was paid, but I see now it was not enough. Tom Paris is doomed to be accepted nowhere--suspected in his ranks, disparaged by his enemies; respected nowhere. And for what, Chakotay? For believing once in his bleary, ravaged life that someone might possibly care what happens to him; might encourage him and applaud him. I realize now, my son got off easy. He was *lucky* Chakotay. He merely lost his life. Young Tom Paris has lost his soul and *that* is a tragedy from which he may never recover. Remember these things, Chakotay. When you pass your judgements and condemn an enemy, be advised to know what is true and not what appears to be. Remember Tom Paris and imagine what it's like to walk through life soulless. Remember and try, any way you can, to make right what was so easily and mindlessly taken away." ====================================== Chakotay leaned back in his chair, feeling as if he'd just fought a physical battle. He absentmindedly wiped the wetness from his cheeks, unable to believe what he had just heard. That Tom Paris was functioning at all, much less busting his ass to redeem himself as an officer was the most unbelievable thing Chakotay ever witnessed. He shook his head at himself. What a fucking joke, thinking Tom Paris needed *his* strength for anything. He had enough of his own to arm a battalion. Chakotay removed the data clip from his computer, twirling it in his hands and trying to pull together a coherent thought. It felt wrong to be privy to such information without Tom's knowledge; yet somehow, the idea of further traumatizing the lieutenant by exposing his secret life seemed cruel. There was much to discuss with his spirit guide. She would know how he should proceed; she knew what the spirits had in mind and why they had arranged this most elaborate scheme to bring both Tom Paris and Chakotay to the precipice upon which they now stood. ====================================== For Tom, there was no 'normal' for life to settle back into following his illness. There was before and there was now and the two were so different as to be lifetimes apart. Given the rather overt fear most of the crewmembers exhibited in his presence, Tom had some trouble reacclimating. The captain patiently explained how the virus entered Tom's system through an open wound, and there was absolutey no risk of contamination to the rest of the crew, but most people were not mollified. On top of this was the confusing, almost stifling presence of Commander Chakotay everywhere he turned. He'd wanted that attention for so long, yet now that he had it, instead of being excited by it, he was scared to death. And who in the hell could he talk to about it without being laughed out of the universe. He was probably imagining it anyway; probably the aftereffects of the virus and all the drugs. Chakotay entered the mess for lunch one afternoon and noticed Tom sitting at a table by himself, surrounded on all sides by empty tables. One half of the mess was obviously over crowded with six and seven people cramming in to the four person tables. Tom's face was a perfect mask of pleased concentration. No anger, no rejection or hurt, just simple interest in the colorful meal on his plate. Chakotay on the other hand wanted to clear the place; order a stand down so the ignorant, hurtful crew could think about their actions and their effect on others. That, of course, would be no service to Tom Paris, but it sure as hell would make him feel better. "Mind if I join you?" Chakotay asked loudly, slamming his tray down on Tom's table. Tom looked up at him, lifting a cool brow. "Feeling wreckless, Commander?" he asked. Chakotay shook his head in disgust. "People can be really stupid, Lieutenant," he said. Tom shrugged. "I've always had a knack for clearing a room," he said wryly. "Or half of it anyway." Chakotay shrugged too. What else was there to say? Tom smeared the food around on his plate and watched Chakotay do the same after trying a few bites. Tom shrugged at the commander's questioning stare. "I'd sooner puke than put any more of this in my mouth but I am *not* letting them win," he said defiantly. "Hell, I'm still off duty for another two days; I can sit here all fucking night if I want to." Chakotay tried not to smile, feeling a peverse kind of pride at the lieutenant's contempt. He had an inkling it was just that kind of rebellious resolve that allowed the man to survive prison. The commander made a face, "Yeah, if the fumes don't kill you first," he said. Tom smirked. "I've got enough replicator rations for a great Chinese meal. What do you say, Lieutenant?" Tom's ever present guard came up a few notches. "I've got the rations, Commander," he said. "It's the principle of the thing. I have just as much of a right to be here as they do." "Hell, Lieutenant, the best revenge is knowing they're stuck here eating this shit." Tom shook his head. "I won't let them win," he said, staring at his plate. Chakotay didn't press it, instead he offered another idea. He was not too sure about it, but his spirit guide was not forthcoming with any clarity and he felt compelled to search for it on his own. "Well then, since you won't be receiving any nourishment from this meal, why don't you join me for dinner in my quarters." Chakotay's heart was pounding and he inwardly rolled his eyes at his adolescent excitement. Tom swallowed hard, tired of trying to figure out what was going on; tired of acting like his feelings weren't hurt; tired of spending the days all alone. He shrugged casually and bit his lower lip, finally managing a slight shrug of acquiescence. Chakotay smiled and squeezed Tom's hand, right there in the mess for all to see. "Great, Lieutenant." He looked sheepish and corrected himself. "Tom. I'll see you at 1800 hours." With a congenial wink, he dumped his tray and walked out of the mess, a most uncharacteristic spring in his step. Tom lingered in the mess hall until most of the crew returned to duty. Gods, why could they hurt him? Why did any of it matter to him *still,* he wondered angrily. It was enough, wasn't it, that the captain had come to trust him; that Harry and B'Elanna tolerated him. Why would he expect anything more? With a shrug, Tom cleared his table and made his way back to his quarters. It was exhausting having to keep up the uncaring front and he needed to sleep. Besides, he couldn't think right now and he needed to think if he was going to make sense of Chakotay's sudden interest, not to mention his dinner invitation.

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. ========================================================================= PART 4 CHAPTER ONE (cont'd) Five hours later, his stomach grumbling insistently, Tom Paris walked to Chakotay’s quarters. He was wearing a pair of loose fitting slacks--although given his recent weight loss, all of his clothes were loose fitting--and a heavy sweater. Ever since he’d been sick, he was cold everywhere except his own quarters. It was like the virus has damaged his internal temperature guage or something. For some inexplicable reason, Tom was nervous. He couldn’t place it, except maybe he kept waiting for the commander to name his terms. Tom wondered what Chakotay would demand for his silence. The sane, rational side of Tom Paris knew the commander wasn’t like that; knew Chakotay’s integrity was above reproach; that his word was his bond. But the other side of Tom Paris; the one who laid curled in a fetal ball while lash after lash was laid on his eight-year old body, that Tom Paris knew there was a price for everything, and it was only a matter of time until you were called on to pay up. Oh well, might as well enjoy the free dinner anyway. He wrang at the commanders’ door and felt his heart jump skip at Chakotay’s confident, ‘Come.’ The door opened and Tom hesitently stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was Chakotay, dressed in tan pants and a bright blue shirt that, coincidentally?, matched Tom Paris’ icy blue eyes. He was standing close enough that Tom could smell his freshly showered scent, a soapy, musky odor that embarrassed him to even notice. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Chakotay said, stepping back and encouraging Tom to enter further. Chakotay recognized Tom’s trepidation and he was silent for a moment, allowing the lieutenant to ease into this most unusual arrangement. Chakotay’s quarters were larger than his, naturally, and he looked around with interest. The outer room was spotlessly neat, but Tom was surprised when he peeked in the bedroom and discovered it was messy. The bed was unmade and several worn uniforms were strewn about the floor. ‘My dirty little secret, Lieutenant,’ Chakotay said with a grin. ‘Sometimes I feel like I’ve given up everything Maquis. This is my own private rebellion in here.’ Tom chuckled, oddly pleased at sharing the little secret. ‘At least you won’t do time for it, Commander,’ he said, Chakotay walked over to the replicator. ‘How does Vegetable Lo Mein with Egg Rolls sound?’ ‘Spicy,’ Tom said happily. ‘After two days of nothing but soup and toast it sounds great.’ ‘Sure it’s not too spicy?’ Chakotay asked. Tom shrugged and grinned. ‘You’re the one feeling daring today, Commander.’ Chakotay ordered the food and carried it over to the table, which had been immaculately set. Tom touched his wine glass and looked at the flickering candles and felt slightly overwhelmed. Chakotay poured a Chardonnay, then smoothly took his place across from Tom. He offered his glass in a silent toast and took a sip. ‘As far as replicated synthehol goes, I’ve had worse.’ Tom grinned suddenly. ‘Have you had one of B’Elanna’s Klingon k’ytchee’s?’ ‘She tried,’ Chakotay admitted, ‘But as soon as I saw something moving in the glass, I was out of there.’ Tom laughed and felt a little of the tension drain from his shoulders. ‘I told Harry they used Molvarian mice to spice up the liquor and he nearly spit it out across the room.’ Chakotay shared his laughter. ‘Of course, if you’ve ever been to a Klingon banquet, you’d know that’s not too far from the truth.’ Tom’s nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘Gods....Of course, I supposed they look at most of what we eat and think we’re nuts too. I mean, whoever heard of making soup out of tomatoes?’ ‘Or a sandwich spread out of peanuts?’ Chakotay offered. ‘We terrans *must* be crazy, huh?’ They both laughed again, and settled in to enjoy the fine meal. It turned out to be a very pleasant evening. Chakotay was surprised to learn he and Tom Paris had very similar temperaments. In a setting where arrogance and bravado weren’t needed as defense mechanisms, Tom was quiet; almost shy. Chakotay discovered he was a voracious reader, consuming as many as four or five books a week. Chakotay teased him about finding the time to read, given the hours he spent at Sandrine’s. Tom blushed and shrugged and said he rarely slept more than five hours a night, so there was plenty of time to read and draw, another favorite pasttime. It made for a poignant image in Chakotay’s mind--that of a lonely tow headed, blue-eyed boy, alone in his room, drawing pictures and coloring with crayons. After dinner, Chakotay quickly cleared the table and asked Tom to take a seat on the couch. His manner became more formal and with a swooping pal of dread, Tom knew they were coming to the real reason he’d been invited for dinner. It had been so nice for a moment, he thought wisfullly, before admonishing himself that a moment would simply have to be enough. He swallowed hard and waited. Chakotay sat down in the chair catty corner to the lieutenant. He’d changed his mind too many times to count through the course of the meal. It was going so well; Tom seemed to be having such a genuinely nice time, he hated to ruin it. Things were progressing much more quickly than he dared hope and he knew dropping this bombshell would put ‘things’ on an indefinite hold, which, when he thought about it, was a pretty crappy reason for keeping Tom in the dark. Chakotay took the dataclip out of his pocket and played with it for a moment. Tom watched in confusion, becoming very still when Chakotay leaned forward and placed the clip on the table and pushed it toward him. ‘You said something when you were sick,’ Chakotay began, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible. ‘You mentioned a ‘Begay,’ and I remembered something that happened shortly before we were stranded in the Delta Quadrant.’ Tom’s face lost all color and his eyes darted for the door as if checking out a means of escape. Chakotay sighed, not knowing how to put the lieutenant at ease. ‘Joseph Begay gave me this clip with instructions to play it and right his wrongs after he died. I thought him a silly old man, caught up in the dramatic triumphs of his past, and I snatched the clip and forgot about it until a few days ago.’ There was no reading Tom’s face now. It was completely blank. Chakotay had no choice but to doggedly continue. ‘You’d quoted Begay twice to me and I remembered the clip and the context in which it was given to me and I made the decision to play it.’ Still no reaction from the motionless lieutenant. He wasn’t even blinking. Chakotay took a deep breath. ‘He told me everything. Right from the beginning all the way to your being offered a spot on Voyager. He didn’t think it was enough to give you another chance in Starfleet; he wants to somehow clear your reputation; make sure the truth is known by everyone.’ ‘How much?’ Tom rasped, raising his tortured eyes to the Commander. ‘How much?’ Chakotay echoed, confused himself. ‘To keep quiet!’ Tom said impatiently. ‘How much do you want? *What* do you want? Just name it and let’s be done with this.’ ‘Tom, I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Chakotay said, but Tom wasn’t listening. ‘Why didn’t you just come right out with it?’ he complained. ‘Why pretend to be my friend. Act all nice and interested like you care what I think about anything? You have the clip, what am I going to do but pay up?’ ‘Tom, you don’t understand,’ Chakotay tried to say. ‘I’m not asking for anything. I simply thought you should be aware...’ ‘Be aware of what?’ Tom shouted, agitated. ‘That you hold all the power? That you could go public with this anytime you want? Well it just stinks, Commander! He’s a great man and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve to be slandered in public just because of what happened to me!’ Chakotay was stunned--revolted to be more accurate. He stared hard at Tom, trying with everything he could muster to understand why the lieutenant would want to protect his bastard of a father. ‘Just because, Tom?’ he echoed incredulously. ‘Gods, Tom, he beat you. A defenseless little boy; the one person in this life he is compelled to protect and nurture. He’s not a great man, he’s a beast. Why in all the gods names would you want to preserve his character?’ Tom blinked hard a couple of times; his face changing every few words until finally understanding hit. ‘My father?’ he sputtered with his own incredulity. ‘I don’t care if you hang that fucking bastard by his testicles on Roshmahnnon square. I meant Begay. You let this out and you’ll destroy his reputation and I won’t let that happen! Do you hear me? I won’t let it happen!’ It never occurred to Tom that he was raising his voice to a superior officer, but then again, it never occurred to Chakotay either. ‘Tom, calm down,’ Chakotay finally said, not an order, but simply a gentle request. ‘The clip is yours. The call is yours to make. I just didn’t feel right knowing any of this without telling you.’ Tom shook his head, more confused than he could remember. ‘I don’t....I don’t understand what’s happening here,’ he whispered, picking up the clip with shaking hands. ‘Tom, don’t you see?’ Chakotay said, leaning forward, intensity burning in his dark eyes. ‘We’ve been linked from the start--everything in our lives has been pushing us, shaping us, preparing us for this moment. Life isn’t random, Tom. Things don’t just *happen*--it’s all been leading us to this moment, right now. Here.’ ‘I’ve never had the luxery of believing in anything *but* the randomness of the universe,’ Tom said hotly. ‘How can you say that, Tom?’ Chakotay asked. ‘The spirits have arranged everything perfectly--left nothing to chance. It was all prearranged long ago.’ Tom jumped up from the couch, tears pooling in his eyes. ‘I won’t believe your spirits!’ he shouted angrily. ‘Where were they when that fucker was pounding me in to the ground! Where were your prescious fucking gods when he was burning me and ridiculing me and telling me I was worthless and a mistake and a fucking freak of nature? If I believe in them now, it means they were around back then and they just fucking let him have at me! Well fuck ‘em! Fuck them all! All of you!’ Chakotay could kick himself for the lack of insight. Gods, of course Tom would see it that way. How typically arrogant of him to assume the way he viewed something was the only way to see it. He had so much to learn. ‘Tom, please try to calm down,’ Chakotay said. ‘You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I can’t expect you to except any of this for my reasons. You don’t have to. But surely you can see that...’ ‘I don’t see anything!’ Tom wailed. ‘I don’t....I don’t understand why I’m here and why you’re telling me all of this and why....why I feel the way I do every time you walk in to the room. I don’t understand any of this!’ ‘I don’t know how to make it easier, Tom, or I would,’ Chakotay doggedly continued. ‘I don’t know how to explain what I suddenly feel without scaring the shit out of you. I just know that it’s right. That everything happening is meant to happen. That I’m here for you and will be until you’re comfortable....’ ‘Don’t say that!’ Tom hissed, fists clinched angrily at his side. ‘Don’t say that because it’s a lie! You won’t always be here! You may stay for awhile and then you’ll be gone like all the others and I’ll be left alone again! But it’s not going to happen this time because I won’t believe it anymore!’ ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Chakotay said forcefully. ‘I don’t believe you!’ Tom shouted, stumbling out from behind the table, moving toward the door. ‘I’m not leaving, Tom,’ he repeated, blocking the lieutenant’s escape. ‘It’s a lie!’ Tom cried, trying to go to one side, then the other, Chakotay’s broad shoulders providing an inpenetrable blockade. Chakotay carefully held Tom’s shoulders in his big beefy hands. ‘It’s the truth,’ he said; the serenity of his voice a marked contrast to Tom’s baleful shrieks. ‘I won’t leave you,’ ‘No,’ Tom wailed. ‘Please, just let me go, it’s not safe, can’t you see.....’ With each excuse, Chakotay pulled the kid closer and closer into an embrace, Tom allowed himself to be drawn in, all the while offering fainter and fainter protests until he gave a frantic cry of surrendor and fiercely locked his arms around Chakotay’s neck, nearly choking off his air supply. Chakotay held the shivering young man as tightly as he could, petting the back of his head and gently shushing his frantic objections. He rocked Tom back and forth, and whispered little words of comfort, using his tone, more than his words to lull the kid into a sense of calm and safety. ‘I’ve got you now,’ Chakotay said. ‘I’ve got you and nothing can hurt you when I’m here.’ When Tom calmed down enough to ease up on his viselike grip around the commander, Chakotay sat them both down on the couch and for awhile they remained very still and quiet with Tom gently resting his head on the commander’s shoulder. ‘I still....I still don’t get it, Chakotay,’ Tom whispered finally. Chakotay looked down, pleased that some color had made its way back in to Tom’s face. ‘I’ve wanted....wanted to be with you for so long and I just....I just assumed it would never happen and now I’m here, but I’m still not sure if...if it’s what I thought....’ Chakotay smiled at Tom’s admission. ‘You wanted to be with me?’ he asked with such obvious delight both he and Tom started to laugh. Tom shrugged shyly. ‘The first time I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. I couldn’t believe they made someone as pretty as you.’ A flush of pleasure crept up Chakotay’s face; he reached out and caressed Tom’s cheek, watching a similar flush darken the lieutenant’s fair skin. He smiled as his thumb brushed across Tom’s soft lips, then gently stroked his chin, anchoring the young lieutenant’s eyes on his. Chakotay leaned in closer, watching Tom’s eyes dance with confusion, understanding and want. Very gently, very softly, in the voice he would use to tame a frightened animal, Chakotay whispered, ‘May I kiss you, Tom Paris?’ Speechless, unnerved by the careening, out-of-control pulsing of his heart, Tom Paris nodded. Chakotay’s lips covered the young lieutenant’s for a kiss so tender it left them both in tears. Chakotay pulled back, then gently kissed away the tear on Tom’s cheek. ‘I don’t know how to do this,’ Tom said, staring up at Chakotay with wide eyes. With a beautiful smile, Chakotay kissed him again, slipping his tongue between the surprised lieutenant’s lips. A surge of emotion Chakotay felt as heat burst forth from the younger man, so he deepened the kiss, sliding his hand down Tom’s side, coming around toward the front to squeeze his erection. It was too much. Tom yelped and jumped back, looking frightened but somehow, with swollen lips and flushed face, incredibly beautiful. Chakotay hastened to apologize, but Tom shook his head. ‘No, Commander, you don’t understand,’ he said. ‘It’s just that I....well, I’ve never done this before.’ ‘With a man?’ Chakotay asked, unable to hide his pleasure at being the first. Tom painfully shook his head, face coloring in embarrassement. He gruffly cleared his throat and forced himself to meet Chakotay’s curious gaze. ‘Never....ever,’ he said quietly. No chance of keeping the stunned disbelief from his face. Chakotay’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Shit, Tom, I had no idea. Gods, I’m so sorry, you must think I’m some kind of brute. Jeez, I just....I had no idea....’ Tom shrugged. ‘I never....I mean, Begay sometimes made me....you know, do things, but I didn’t....I didn’t want to and in prison some of the prisoners used to...try stuff, but there’s the scars and then, then there’s worse ones....worse ones down...you know down there and and I couldn’t...couldn’t let anyone know, so it just....’ Chakotay slid his hand into Tom’s and brought it to his lips. ‘I know, Tom,’ he said gently. ‘About everything. I saw the scars when you were sick, and I should have realized....It’s way too soon for this.’ Tom gave Chakotay a curious look. ‘You saw them?’ he asked. ‘And you weren’t like.... completely revolted?’ Heaving a sensual sigh, Chakotay shook his head. ‘Tom, the last thing I feel right now is revolted,’ he whispered, bringing Tom’s hand down to brush against his straining erection. He kissed Tom again, careful not to be overly forceful, but knowing Tom needed to understand how real his desires were. ‘I want you, Tom,’ he whispered, ‘Gods, I want you so badly my ears are ringing. But we need to take it slow. Need to wait for the right time. And I’m not going anywhere, so believe me when I say, I’ve got all the time in the universe.’ With a smile of relief, Tom reached up to recapture Chakotay’s mouth, and like two teenagers, they necked until the early hours of the morning. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = To anyone working with them on the bridge, there had been an obvious thaw in the formerly icy relationship between Tom Paris and Commander Chakotay, but no more than that. It was actually Tom who shyly requested they keep things under wraps for awhile. He assumed Chakotay would prefer it that way and was surprised when the commander was taken aback by the assumption. ‘I’m not ashamed of you!’ he said indignantly. ‘Gods, Tom, I can’t believe a beautiful young guy like you would look twice at an old man like me!’ ‘You’re not old,’ Tom scolded. ‘It’s just....it’s a lot to deal with all of a sudden without wondering what everyone else thinks is happening....No one will understand your wanting to be with me.’ ‘Then they’re blind,’ Chakotay had whispered, drawing Tom into a tight clinch. For Tom, it was all new and wonderful and as long as he was with the commander, he could enjoy every thundering beat of his heart. When he was alone, though, he was more agitated and unnerved than he had been in years. It was nothing short of crazy to risk this kind of involvement when he knew full well it was only temporary. Chakotay would tire of him and then where would he be? Gods, he wouldn’t survive it; he knew he wouldn’t. Too much had happened; too many injuries; too many wounds both physical and mental. He had no more reserves to call from; if he let himself get in too deep, when it blew up in his face, he’d be done for. But then Chakotay would call or stop by and Tom’s heart lept to his throat and he knew a kind of peaceful happiness more addictive than any drug he could imagine. They spent most evenings in Chakotay’s quarters with Tom’s impressive collection of data clips providing hours of entertainment. They listened to music while Chakotay finished the day’s data work and Tom made up ever more fantastic excuses for not going out to Sandrine’s. Many nights they cuddled together on the couch while Chakotay read aloud from one of Tom’s favorite books. The older man was astounded by the poetic, romantic side of the swaggering fly boy, impressed as hell by his literary insight, not to mention his photographic memory. Tom had only to see or hear something once to have total recall of it later. He pulled it out like a parlor trick to amuse Chakotay who never failed to marvel. Oftentimes, the story they were reading reminded Chakotay of a legend he was told as a child and he recounted the story for Tom who exhibited a growing curiosity about Chakotay’s Native American culture. Tom worried far more than Chakotay about their stalled attempts at intimacy--though it was Chakotay taking his fair share of cold showers. Tom was fine with kissing as long as it wasn’t too intense; he enjoyed lying together on the couch and Chakotay’s affectionate hugs and caresses when they lounged together. But any time Chakotay’s hands started roving, any time he tried to skim beneath Tom’s shirt or the waistband of his pants, the lieutenant froze. He always flashed on the idea that he’d be alone soon. He could not allow himself to forget the temporary nature of this happiness. He’d already invested far too much of himself--so much so that he wondered if he wasn’t done for already. Some remaining shred of self-preservation made him retreat from losing any more of himself in the forceful, charismatic first officer. He knew it wasn’t fair to Chakotay, who seemed to think it was only a matter of time until this last vestige of the lieutenant was opened to him as well. Tom had to admit, it *was* getting harder to resist. Chakotay’s probing tongue and roaming hands were starting to feel so right; so....necessary, that Tom was often tempted to give in. But no sooner had his resolve weakened than his dreams became increasingly disturbed. Afraid Chakotay would take them as an ominous sign, Tom did not say anything, but the commander knew something was wrong. Of late, Tom and Chakotay had been spending the night in Chakotay’s bed, chastely retiring in boxers and t-shirts with Chakotay’s arm slung loosely over his shoulder. Suddenly, Tom kept finding excuses to return to his own quarters after their quietly pleasant evenings together. Chakotay had promised not to push the kid, but he found himself, not so much impatient as eager and it was harder than he could imagine to kiss Tom goodnight at the door and make the slow, lonely journey back to his room.

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. ========================================================================= PART 5 CHAPTER TWO Tom woke with a scream, catapulting himself from the bed, and slamming into the wall on the far end of his room. He curled up in a fetal ball, desperately shielding himself from the blows to come. ‘Paris to Chakotay!’ he shouted. ‘Please Chakotay! Please answer!’ Where was the bad man? Why did he not strike back? Retribution was swift and painful. It was a lesson set in stone; set in the permanent welts on his back. ‘Tom?’ Chakotay’s voice; scratchy with sleep and confusion. ‘Please, please come,’ Tom whispered. ‘Oh gods, please come.’ ‘On my way,’ said Chakotay, sounding as if he were running already. Tom crawled to the far corner of his bedroom, too afraid to order the lights up, praying that perhaps in the darkness, the bad man would be temporarily thwarted. Chakotay reached the lieutenant’s quarters at a full run and found it locked. ‘Tom,’ he called in a low voice. ‘Tom, it’s Chakotay. Let me in.’ Silence. Chakotay tried Tom’s level one security code but it didn’t work. He heard in his head Tom’s utterly terrified summons. ‘Shit,’ he spat, damning the override that would show up in the morning logs. ‘Computer, disengage security lock. Authorize Chakotay Sigma Eta 12.’ The door beeped and serenely opened. Chakotay rushed in to total darkness, colliding with a chair Tom had haphazardly pushed into the door’s pathway. Swearing under his breath, Chakotay barked, ‘Computer, lights on.’ Full illumination made Chakotay flinch and turn his head. And there, pushed as far into a corner as possible was Tom--naked, shivering, eyes closed as if by not seeing, he could not be seen. In slow motion, Chakotay pulled the covers from the bed and cautiously approached the young man. ‘I’m here, Tom,’ he said soothingly as he knelt and held out the blanket, as if drawing a child from his bath. Tom’s head shot up and he turned his wild, unfocused eyes towards Chakotay’s voice. Chakotay’s breath caught in his throat, seeing in Tom’s face every war orphan he’d ever witnessed--those he often feared he had made. The lieutenant focused, recognized, and let loose with the single most agonizing wail of torment the big man could ever imagine. Its sound filled the cabin, circled him, set his hair on end and abraded his back like the fingernails of a Haldashian. Tom scrambled into his arms, throwing his own arms so tightly around Chakotay’s neck that the breath was knocked from him. ‘I’m here, Tom,’ Chakotay said, his voice raised to be heard above the shrieking. ‘I’m right here and nothing can hurt you now. You’re safe, Tom. You’re safe.’ Tom’s screams ended in a moan that eventually gave way to wracking sobs. He buried his head in Chakotay’s shoulder and wept, the frenzied, hysterical cry of a broken man. Chakotay’s own chest ached at the barren, painful sounds from Tom’s raw throat. ‘I don’t care,’ Tom moaned. ‘I don’t care that you’ll leave; I don’t care that you’ll hate me, I can’t ....I don’t.....I need you. Oh gods help me, but I need you. I can’t be alone anymore. I can’t do it, please Chakotay. I don’t care that it’s just for now, do you hear? I don’t care!’ Chakotay’s strong arms tightened around the still shivering young man. ‘Hush,’ soothed Chakotay, and began to gently rock the lieutenant. ‘Now what’s this all about, Tom? Tell me what’s wrong.’ A terrible shudder shook Tom. He burrowed closer for warmth and comfort. He briefly shook his head, as if he were going to refuse to answer. He tightened his own arms, clinging desperately to Chakotay. He nuzzled the big man’s neck, his familiar musky scent further relaxing his frayed nerves. ‘Oh, Chakotay, it was so real. The dream. It was so real, and I woke up and now I’m not sure what was real and what wasn’t. What if....what if what I remember isn’t what happened? Or what I’m dreaming is somehow.....is somehow changing the present. It’s all so....I just....I’m so confused.....’ Chakotay kissed Tom’s cheek, and continued gently combing his fingers through the soft, blond hair. ‘Nothing can hurt you now,’ he reminded. ‘I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.’ Tom’s breathing was almost back to normal. ‘But what if..... what if I’m hurting someone? I don’t.....I don’t want to....’ Chakotay felt the wetness from Tom’s tears on his neck. Reflexively tightening his gripped, he kissed the young man again. ‘Hold on, Tom. Let’s start with the dream. Why don’t you tell me what happened.’ Tom nodded dutifully but was silent for a moment. ‘I want....the....can we....’ he sighed in frustration, then gruffly cleared his throat. ‘Not on the floor,’ he finally whispered. ‘Not like this.’ Chakotay understood. He stood up, helping a shaky Tom to his feet as well. Never taking his strong arms from around the younger man, he repositioned them both on the couch, drawing the blankets closer around Tom to try and stave off the shivering. ‘Please talk to me, Tom,’ Chakotay whispered. ‘I’ll do anything I can to help you. To make this better.’ Tom nodded again, gravely this time, and pulled back to look up at Chakotay with eyes like blue ice. ‘I have to ask you something,’ he said, his own hushed voice adding to the air of intimacy. ‘You won’t....you won’t like it.’ ‘You can ask me anything,’ Chakotay said, hurt at Tom’s lack of faith. Grimacing in disbelief, Tom slightly shook his head. ‘It’s about your....your spirit guide. I need to know....’ he sighed, but forced his eyes back to Chakotay’s dark coals. ‘Is she....is she a timbre wolf?’ The blood in Chakotay’s veins turned cold and drained from his face. It congealed in a frenzied mass in his stomach. Tom felt him stiffen and pull away and he nearly doubled over in pain. Why had he been so stupid? Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? ‘How could you know that?’ Chakotay asked in breathless incredulity. ‘No one could .... no one....’ He fiercely gripped Tom’s shoulders and shook the young man in his confusion. ‘How do you know that?’ he growled. Tom’s face paled even further; his skin turning a frightening, colorless gray. ‘I’m sorry,’ he managed to rasp; his entire body crumpling in terror. ‘I’m sorry, please don’t....don’t go away just yet, I’m sorry, Chakotay, I should....I should know better, but I got scared and then I thought....well, I thought, but I shouldn’t and, please, I’m sorry....’ The fearful groveling, brought Chakotay out of his daze. Blinking rapidly, he wrapped his arms around Tom, rocking him again with a calming, soothing, motion. ‘Oh, Tom, no, honey, I’m not angry,’ he said in a soft, careful voice. ‘I’m just....I’m just surprised is all. Stunned. There’s no way you could know that and yet.....and yet you do. Tell me.....how?’ Tom let himself be rocked for a while longer, enjoying the warmth and safety found in Chakotay’s arms. Finally, he took a deep, cleansing breath and began to speak. ‘It was the same dream as always. I’m in my room and I know he’s coming for me. I’m trying not to think about it, trying not to be scared, knowing he....knowing he wants me to be scared by the time he comes in....and then.....and then he’s there, on top of me and he’s hitting me with his fist and he’s.....he’s slamming my head in the floor and I keep thinking--I keep thinking, he’ll kill me soon. I’ll be dead and then he can’t hurt me anymore....But I don’t die and he just keeps hitting and kicking and....and, well, you know, it’s the same dream as always, except this time.....this time, I’m on the ground and I’m looking up at him and he’s so fucking crazy, Chakotay, his eyes are just so... so demented and he’s....he’s laughing, like some kind of fucking psycho and all of a sudden, out of....out of no where, there’s this.....this roar, like a.....like a wild animal and suddenly he’s screaming and this beautiful--oh gods, Chakotay, she’s so incredibly beautiful--this wolf jumps at him and she’s--she’s at his neck and he’s screaming and she’s growling and I can’t....I can’t move. I hear this fierce battle going on and then it was quiet. Oh, it was so quiet--like when the red alert finally goes off and you can hear a pin drop. And I wanted to look and see what had happened, but I was so tired, I just--I just wanted to sleep and-and-and to forget. And then the wolf, she came to me, and she curled up next to me and put her head on my chest and....and it was so nice. I wanted it to last forever.’ Chakotay smiled and kissed Tom’s soft hair. ‘What’s so bad about that?’ he asked. ‘I think it sounds beautiful.’ ‘But he wasn’t dead, Chakotay. It was quiet and so peaceful, a kind of peace I’ve never known, not ever.’ Tom started to shake again, his voice began to quiver. ‘And I...I made the mistake of thinking everything would be okay, and I....I reached out to pet her....I just.....I just wanted to touch her, and I reached my hand out and...’ It was becoming difficult to understand him. Chakotay held his breath, willing the young man to get the story out. ‘He....he screamed--he was on top of us and he had a knife and he....he stabbed her!’ Tom was sobbing now, moaning in an almost physical pain. ‘Oh gods, he stabbed her over and over again and she was...she was baying with....with rage and-and pain, and he just kept laughing and thrusting the knife in over and over and over.....and I couldn’t stop it and it was my fault and I killed her, don’t you see, I killed her!’ ‘That’s enough!’ Chakotay said, his own voice strangled with emotion. He fiercely held Tom to his warm body, trying to will away the residual dread and fear. He wished he could tell Tom it didn’t mean anything; wished he could banish the terror with a simple word or caress; but it didn’t work like that in his culture. He grew up with people who knew the power of dreams; who believed in their ability to harmonize oneself to the past, as well as predict the future. His people accepted dreams as the harbinger of both good fortune and of impending doom. Until Chakotay knew precisely what this dream was trying to tell them, there could be no discounting the violent visions. ‘I don’t....I don’t know what this means, Tom, but I....’ ‘I do!’ Tom said, burying his head for a moment before pulling back to look at Chakotay. ‘It means that getting involved with me is only going to hurt you; like I’ve hurt everyone else! Don’t you see--I’m no good, Chakotay! I’m only going to bring your trouble!’ ‘That’s your father talking,’ Chakotay said as civilly as possible. Even thinking about that monstrosity made him want to retch, though he knew he had to tread lightly, lest Tom misinterpret that disgust as directed toward him. ‘This dream could be telling us many things and it would be arrogant and irresponsible for us to jump to the first and most obvious conclusion.’ Tom shuddered, but the words seemed to provide an element of calm. ‘I can’t....Chakotay, if something were to happen to you, I....I wouldn’t survive it. I know that sounds stupid, or-or melodramatic, but it’s the truth. If being with me means that....that something bad’s going to happen, I just can’t....’ Chakotay was ashamed by the thrilling rush of power following the realization that it was, indeed, true. Tom wouldn’t survive his loss. It was a disconcerting and wholly exhilarating thought. ‘Hush,’ Chakotay soothed, guiltily shifting Tom away from his growing erection. ‘Tom, I...I care for you too much to believe that the spirits want us kept apart. I wouldn’t feel like this; I *couldn’t* if it weren’t right. The dream means something else; I know it does. And tomorrow I’ll talk to my spirit guide and see if she can’t give us a hand.’ Chakotay smiled as Tom relaxed fully against his chest; the tension finally drained from his weary bones. ‘You sound so sure,’ Tom said sleepily. ‘Because I am,’ Chakotay said, with more certainty than he actually felt. He nudged Tom up from the couch. ‘Now off to bed with you, mister,’ he said with the gentle, teasing tone used to dismiss a child. Tom, unwilling to break his hold on the big man, waited for Chakotay to rise. ‘Will you...will you stay with me?’ he asked, in a voice so quiet, Chakotay had to lean forward to catch it. ‘Of course,’ said the commander and was rewarded with a small, barely discernible smile. He felt tears cloud his eyes at Tom’s grateful embrace. He replaced the blankets on the bed and got Tom settled under the sheets. He quietly removed his clothes and folded them neatly on a chair before ordering the lights off. Carefully, he climbed into bed, spooning Tom from behind. ‘Hold me....hold me really tight, okay?’ Tom whispered. Chakotay could only manage a grunt of assent. He slid one hand under the young lieutenant, laid the other over his shoulder and drew Tom tightly against his chest. He felt the raised welts on Tom’s back and wondered if it was the awareness of that, or of his fully erect penis against the cleft of Tom’s ass that sent a startled shiver through the young man. Chakotay kissed the nape of Tom’s neck and whispered, ‘Everything’s okay, Tom. I’m here and nothing’s going to hurt you as long as I’m with you.’ It wasn’t in his power to guarantee such a promise, but it was what Tom needed, and perhaps that was more important. The young lieutenant heaved a sigh and by then end of the exhale fell into an exhausted, much needed sleep.

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. ========================================================================= **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** THIS SECTION CONTAINS SUBJECT MATTER OF AN ADULT NATURE. PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE OR OFFENDED BY SEX BETWEEN TWO CONSENTING ADULTS OF THE SAME GENDER. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** PART 6 CHAPTER TWO (cont'd) As usual, Chakotay awoke a full hour before his alarm was due to sound. Feeling the warm body beneath him, he knew he wasn’t alone and opening his eyes, he knew he wasn’t in his quarters. Then he remembered Tom’s urgent midnight call and his terrified reaction to the dream. Chakotay slowly shook his head. He had never heard of one’s spirit guide jumping into another’s subconscious. He wished, as he did nearly every day, that he could speak to his father. And if not his father, one of his people’s shaman. It was easy enough to interpret Tom’s wish to be protected; even easier to understand his seeing Chakotay as that protector. But to envision his spirit guide--well, that was something else entirely. Chakotay sighed. Was it such a stretch, he reasoned, for Tom to perceive his spirit guide? The actual form was not such a mystery--perhaps something in his demeanor or in his aura gave rise to the form his spirit animal took. Still, Chakotay was not raised to believe in coincidences, certainly not where dreams were concerned. The big man shrugged his shoulders philosophically. It was pointless to lay there ruminating when clarity would only be found with his spirit guide. Instead, he took advantage of the moment to pull away from Tom and reclaim his dormant arm. Tom made a slightly distressed sound and rolled to his back. Chakotay pushed up to his elbow and watched Tom sleep; a gentle smile curling his lips. The kid was beautiful when he slept; then only time when he seemed remotely at peace. He laid his hand on Tom’s chest, feeling the soft downy fuzz as his lungs expanded and contracted. Chakotay grinned ruefully at the rushing warmth of pleasure he felt witnessing so rudimentary an act. The smile faded as he wondered how Tom would feel about waking up in bed--naked--together. Uncomfortable? Embarrassed? Chakotay thought briefly about leaving, but rightly assumed the young man would read the departure as abandonment. Tom stirred again, eyebrows drawing in confusion at his sudden unfettered arrangement. His eyes fluttered open and any concern Chakotay felt over his reaction evaporated at the slow, shy smile that crept across the lieutenant’s features. It was one of his rare, beautiful smiles making it all the way to his pretty blue eyes, lightening his features and made him look like a little kid. Chakotay found his own smile matching Tom’s. ‘Morning,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Morning,’ Tom said, parroting Chakotay’s tone more than expressing a sentiment of his own. His eyes bored into the commander’s looking for an answer to a question he was too afraid to ask. Chakotay stared back for a beat, then two. Very slowly, allowing Tom every opportunity to turn away or pull back, Chakotay ducked his head until his lips softly, cautiously, covered Tom’s. Tom immediately opened his mouth; and Chakotay carefully deepened the kiss, inviting Tom’s tongue into his mouth, exploring Tom’s mouth with his. Chakotay pressed himself further upon the young man; his mouth became more insistent and his hands began to explore. He shifted his weight so that their erections could press against one another, sending shocking waves of erotic pleasure up and down Tom’s spine every time they met. ‘Oh gods,’ Tom whispered into Chakotay’s mouth, gasping again as the commander’s hand found his nipple and began, gently at first, then with increasing roughness, to pinch and caress. Finally breaking from Tom’s mouth, Chakotay panted with months of pent up desire. ‘Anytime it gets to be too much for you, we stop.’ he said, wondering if he had the strength to back up his words. ‘Gods, don’t talk,’ Tom moaned, reaching up to recapture Chakotay’s mouth. ‘I need this...gods, I want this so bad.’ Chakotay grinned lasciviously and licked his lips. ‘Then pay attention, Hot Shot, ‘cause there’s going to be a test afterward.’ Tom’s laughter was stifled by the big man’s hungry mouth. *Why had they waited so long,* he wondered before rational thought suddenly exploded in a fireball behind his eyes. Chakotay had begun to massage Tom’s penis. The big man winced in spite of himself at the feel of the puckered burn marks. He quickly swallowed the black rage momentarily cloudeding his vision. That miscreant was *not* going to ruin this, he vowed angrily. Tom’s inarticulate cries and moans gave testament to his growing excitement at each caress, and the big man intensified the pressure, quickly recognizing and repeating those touches that produced the most pleasure, shying away from those that seemed to discomfort. Exploring every centimeter of the exquisite, young physique with his eager mouth, Chakotay kissed his way down the length of Tom’s body, until the younger man was writhing beneath him with unfulfilled desire. Had he not feared Tom’s misunderstanding, Chakotay would have laughed aloud at the sheer joy of loving so responsive a partner. He’d forgotten what unbridled pleasure it was to offer up this physical manifestation; this concrete example of feeling and desire. It was true what he had said to Tom earlier--there was fucking and there was making love and the two were about as separate from one another as you could get. Tom shouted with abandon when Chakotay removed his hands and wrapped his mouth around his penis. The older man tried vainly to ease Tom’s bucking hips, to forestall the inevitable, but he knew the first time around, it was simply too intense to last very long. With a deafening cry of shock, Tom shot his load. Chakotay swallowed hard and continued nipping and siphoning, until Tom pulled away in a flash of self-preservation. Chakotay laughed, smiling at Tom with such joy there was no room to misinterpret. He leaned in and aggressively captured Tom’s mouth; the younger man shuddering at the taste of himself on another man’s lips. Chakotay allowed himself to be a little rougher and Tom responded in kind; each one’s response intensified and returned to the other with a growing fervor that Chakotay found more exciting than any encounter he could remember. Tom’s lips tore loose from Chakotay’s to explore behind his ear and down his neck; across his chest and then further south. *The kid’s an excellent mimic,* Chakotay thought, as Tom began kissing the same path the commander had followed on his body. Chakotay moaned at the continued throbbing of his unsatisfied erection. *But a bit of a straggler.* He grabbed the back of Tom’s head, shifted his hips and inserted his penis into the startled man’s mouth. Chakotay shouted his delight and the sound reverberated in Tom’s ears, energizing and encouraging him. He redoubled his efforts to please, astounded at the guttural moans of pleasure emanating from the older man. He used his teeth and tongue, exploiting his inexperience by trying anything and everything that came to mind. Where his own cries were used as sign posts by the more experienced man, there was no such direction offered now. Everything he did was equally applauded and exclaimed over. There was no touch, no bite, no offering that was not accepted with a frenzied, frantic shout of approval. It was addictive and he fearfully felt himself loosing control. Chakotay seemed to sense the growing chaos and reigned it in by furiously coming, bucking his hips so wildly Tom thought he would suffocate. Dripping with sweat, exhausted, and amazed, Chakotay pulled Tom to face him. The look of profound amazement on the younger man’s face was a gift from the spirits, Chakotay thought, reverently kissing the younger man’s forehead, and then his eyebrows, and his cheeks and his chin. ‘Is it....is it always like that?’ Tom asked, almost hating to break the exquisite silence. Chakotay chuckled and raised his eyebrows. ‘Not on any planet *I’ve* ever been,’ he said ruefully. ‘So I did okay, huh?’ Tom asked with an almost cocky grin. The chuckle expanding to a full belly laugh, Chakotay nodded. ‘Yeah, you did okay, Hot Shot.’ Tom blushed, sheepishly ducking his head at Chakotay’s amused smile. ‘Thanks, Chakotay,’ he said, gently laying his head on the big man’s chest. Chakotay held Tom close and kissed the pretty blond hair. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly. Tom snuggled close as Chakotay’s hand softly ran up and down his back. He felt as if he was being gently guided away from himself and he slipped into a peaceful reverie. He came around when Chakotay’s touch grew more purposeful. Tom felt first one finger, then another, enter him. He started, simultaneously aware of Chakotay’s erection and the sudden thundering of the big man’s heart. He looked up at Chakotay’s eyes, almost embarrassed at the wanton look of lust in the commander’s flushed face. Chakotay licked his lips, painfully pushing his pulsating sex against the younger man. ‘I want to be inside you, Tom,’ he said in a low voice. Tom’s mouth felt dry. ‘I think....I want that too,’ he rasped. Chakotay shuddered in unholy anticipation, pulling Tom by the scruff of his neck to meet his mouth. ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ Chakotay panted between kisses, moaning as Tom’s roaming hands intensified the ache in his groin. ‘But...but it’s not going to be....’ ‘Do it,’ Tom gasped back, struggling for coherence in the face of Chakotay’s forceful mouth. ‘Oh gods, I can’t....if you wait.....I mean, shit, do it!’ It was all the encouragement Chakotay needed and he reacted by swiftly--violently--devouring the man beneath him. Everywhere Chakotay put his mouth felt as if he left a ring of fire in his wake. The sensations were stunning and frightening and exhilarating, and Tom quickly gave up trying to catalog or remember one second to the next. There was no miserable past or murky future; there was only each individual passing instant; there was only the mouth encircling his nipple, the all-encompassing body pressing unto his, the tortuous ache for release from his tumescent sex. But then, suddenly, it was all gone. He was alone and the air was cold and lonely. He gave a startled, panicked cry of surprise as Chakotay rose from the bed. ‘Wh-what’s wrong,’ Tom asked in a voice that sounded like it hadn’t been used for ages. Chakotay walked to the replicator, barked a command and returned to the bed with lubricant. Tom took in the mirrored responses of their bodies--both chests heaving, glistening with sweat, erections spitting with unsatisfied need. Chakotay stood in front of the younger man, erotically preparing himself for entry by thoroughly coating his engorged penis. Tom watched in fascination, marveling at the size of the commander. He was really big, Tom thought, allowing himself a moment of disquiet. Shit, he was just about the biggest guy he’d ever seen, which is saying something when you considered the crowded, communal showers of prison. What would it be like to have something that huge inside you. What would it be like? Chakotay finished his task and threw the lubricant on a bedside table, moving toward Tom with a predatory growl. He pushed Tom back to a prone position and crawled on top of him, hungrily kissing him and using his sticky fingers to coat Tom’s anus. The stunning thrill of Chakotay’s fingers briefly entering then retreating was enough to dispel any hesitation. ‘Hurry, Chakotay,’ he finally groaned. Chakotay reacted with another growl, forcefully pushing Tom to his stomach and positioning his penis at the younger man’s cleft. ‘If you want to stop, we will,’ Chakotay said, knowing full well this time it was a lie. But then, so, it seemed, did Tom. ‘If you don’t fucking hurry, I’m going to explode!’ Tom huffed. With a simple thrust of his hips, Chakotay began his entry. Tom gasped, shocked at this most apalling invasion, and Chakotay halted. A few jagged breaths later, the younger man nodded and Chakotay resumed his approach. Tom was impossibly tight, making Chakotay’s progress slow and painful. It took Herculean self control to refrain from slamming into the man with every gram of strength he had. Gods, it was exquisite. Stopping periodically to let the kid accommodate himself to the assault, Chakotay felt his heart sing with joy at his taking of the young man’s virginity. He had never been on the receiving end of such a gift, and the shameful thrill was almost--almost--overshadowed by the awareness of tearing flesh, but there was no halting the onslaught now. Chakotay’s groans and gasps echoed in the cabin, but there was no sound from the younger man--he had stopped moaning, stopped writhing, stopped breathing, as the explosion of pain and connection and submission warred for supremacy. And then suddenly, Chakotay was still and the blinding light behind Tom’s eyes cleared and he came back to himself. He took a huge, shuddering mouthful of air, becoming conscious of Chakotay’s pelvis resting against the small of his back; extending that awareness through his anus to his internal organs. Oh gods, this was it. Chakotay was inside him; they were like one person; their hearts and lungs and minds functioning as one sentient being, oh gods, the power! It was incredible. Tom felt invincible and vulnerable; sated and unfulfilled; he felt as if everything in the universe that had ever happened to him was leading to this one, quintessential moment of oneness with the extraordinary man above him. From deep within himself, he felt Chakotay’s great intake of air, and then the big man began slowly rocking his hips. Tom gasped as if he’d been struck from behind. ‘Uh, ahhhhh!’ he shouted, stunned there was more; that every sensation had not already been discovered and spent. He shouted again when Chakotay withdrew without warning, screaming even louder when he violently shoved himself back in. It was relentless and awe-inspiring; the absence of him tragic; the return a confusing mixture of relief and mind bending pain. Chakotay pounded relentlessly into the young man; his heart flip flopping with the same uncontrolled joy he’d felt at his first interplanetary flight. In and in, deeper and deeper, harder and harder, he couldn’t have enough of the kid and what he did get wasn’t coming fast enough. He wanted all of Tom--every breath, every thought, every minute corner of his being he wanted for himself and he greedily searched for the very soul of the fragile lieutenant. Tom’s heart was thundering so loudly he feared Chakotay would tell him to shut up. It was starting to hurt in his chest; he even started to wonder if it would leave some kind of tell tale bruise on his chest cavity. That’s when Chakotay reached around and grabbed his straining penis with both hands. Shit! He’d forgotten about it! Gods, how many ways could Chakotay please him all at once? he thought incredulously, which in turn made him wonder if he was doing enough to please Chakotay. Instinctively he suddenly brought his own hands to the mattress beneath him, and waiting to precisely match Chakotay’s lunge, forcefully straightened his arms, further impaling himself on Chakotay’s swollen member. Bellowing in a shocked, strangled voice, Chakotay exploded deep inside the young lieutenant, who reciprocated by coming in a beautiful fountain over the hands of the older man. Chakotay jerked his hips spasmodically, emptying himself inside Tom, wishing he could leave behind some of the confidence and serenity his own easy childhood had effortlessly left in its wake. Finally, he collapsed on top of the lieutenant, murmuring vague, incoherent thank you’s into the nape of the young man’s neck. They gasped in unison, enjoying every last, shuddering moment of the enormous orgasm. Chakotay offered a silent, heartfelt prayer of thanks to the spirit world for permitting such a joyous encounter. With a sated sigh, Chakotay shifted his hips and started to withdraw, stopping only at Tom’s stifled cry of distress. ‘Oh, don’t leave me, Chakotay,’ he whispered. ‘Please, please don’t leave me....’ Chakotay kissed Tom’s cheek, having to concentrate to keep from squeezing the life out of the young man. ‘Our journey is just beginning, Tom,’ he said finally. With a sob of distress, the younger man felt their connection severed. Chakotay pulled back to survey the damage and winced at the sight. There was a lot of blood. ‘Dammit, Tom, I didn’t mean for it to be this bad,’ he said, starting to rise and find something to clean the kid up. Tom chuckled lightly. ‘Mmmm, that’s easy for you to say now,’ he teased, but sobered up at the look of pained guilt in Chakotay’s face. ‘Chakotay, this is the most...incredible, unbelievable thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t think a little bloodshed could take any of that away.’ Chakotay brushed the sweaty hair off Tom’s forehead. ‘I can’t stand the thought of hurting you, Tom. The most important thing in my life right now is making sure you’re okay.’ Tom’s eyebrows flashed. ‘Well, consider it mission accomplished, Big Man. I’m more than okay, I’m great!’ Chakotay laughed at Tom’s bravado. Tom hugged him exuberantly, quickly turning it into something a more intimated which made Chakotay groan and push Tom off him like a pesky fly. ‘Hmm, I think I’ve created a monster,’ he mused, then feigned a tragic sigh. ‘Unfortunately, you’re going to have to make some allowances for my decrepit, 41 year-old body,’ he told the younger man. ‘I think it’s the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,’ Tom said shyly, running a tentative hand over a bicep and down his arm. Chakotay hugged him, settling his head into the comfortable crook of his shoulder. ‘Mmm, this is nice,’ Tom sighed in a drowsy voice. ‘How am I going to look at you on the bridge without tearing your clothes off and taking you right there in front of everyone?’ Chakotay laughed again as the image played out in his mind. ‘Hmm, I’d like to see how Tuvok writes *that* up in his security log!’ he said and they both dissolved into giggles. They were quiet for awhile, Tom learning for the first time to enjoy the delicious lassitude that followed coupling. Eventually, he stirred against Chakotay. ‘We’ve gotta get ready for duty,’ he reminded with a wistful sigh. Chakotay nestled Tom back in his arms. ‘Not today,’ he said quietly. ‘I need to meet with my spirit guide and you need to get some rest. You haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks and it’s starting to show..’ Tom’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘We already agreed I’m okay....’ Chakotay rolled over so Tom was on his back. He loomed above him, eyes almost hypnotically passing his will onto the younger man. ‘I’m talking to the Captain while you take a shower,’ he said in his most gentle voice. ‘Then I want you to lay in bed and read a good book and eat grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup until your sides burst, okay?’ ‘Okay.’ Tom’s voice was almost comically demure and he blushed at Chakotay’s approving smile. He shivered suddenly and burrowed close to the big man for warmth. ‘Can’t I....can’t I come with you?’ he asked shyly. Gravely shaking his head, Chakotay brushed his fingers through Tom’s hair. ‘There are ceremonies we can do together, but some have to be done alone,’ he explained. ‘This is one that must be done in solitude.’ ‘What if your spirit guide says you can’t be with me?’ Tom asked, realizing with dread it was too late for the question. If Chakotay had to leave now, he’d simply disintigrate into a thousand shards of glass. Chakotay leaned down and kissed the worried young man with such devoted tenderness, Tom felt tears cloud his eyes. The intensity of their union had solidified Chakotay’s ambiguous feelings from the night before. ‘We could not come together like this if the spirits weren’t behind us,’ he said and even Tom recognized the strengthened conviction in his tone. ‘Tom, I’m sure we’ll be tested many times in many different ways, but that’s not because we shouldn’t be together. Perhaps it’s because we have so much to learn from one another, hmm?’ Tom smiled. ‘I like that,’ he said. ‘Me too,’ Chakotay said, and kissed Tom one last time, then leaned over so he could pull him up to a sitting position. ‘Leave me some hot water,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll be right there.’ He watched Tom walk to the bathroom, admiring the lithe young man’s picture perfect physique. Michaelangelo’s David should be in such shape, Chakotay thought with a grin. It pleased him to appreciate Tom’s body without overwhelming interference from the horrifying scars. When he heard the water running, he rose from the bed and put on his turtle neck and boxers. Grimacing at the bloody sheet, he removed it from the bed and retrieved a clean one, resolving to rinse the soiled sheet later in the lavatory. The crew would be talking soon enough, he figured ruefully, no use just giving the evidence away. Glancing at the time piece, he hailed Janeway in her suite. ‘Janeway here,’ she answered, ready for duty and obviously finishing breakfast. ‘What can I do for you, Commander?’ Her eyebrow cocked just a little too innocently and Chakotay found himself grinning at her insight. He might as well have chosen a Betazoid as his best friend. ‘With all due respect, Captain, removing that knowing smirk from your face might be a good place to start.’ Janeway laughed. ‘You hail me from Lt. Paris’ quarters at 0600--only half dressed, I might add--and I’m supposed to play stupid, is that the drill? And I was getting ready to thank you for remaining seated.’ Chakotay shook his head at his captain. ‘Someday it’s going to be your turn, Captain, and believe me, I will be merciless.’ ‘Hmmm, celibacy is sounding better and better,’ she said wryly. Chakotay laughed. ‘Can someone else fly the ship today? Tom’s been pretty stressed lately and I’m kind of worried with that damned virus still lurking...’ Janeway’s face sobered. ‘Is he okay?’ Chakotay nodded slowly. ‘He will be. So much has happened in the last few months....I’m probably worrying for nothing, but you know me.’ He held up a hand to stop the captain’s sarcastic reply. ‘Do you mind if I attend to a few...issues myself today? ‘Take as long as you need, Chakotay.’ ‘Thank you, Captain.’ ‘Tell me one thing, Commander, seeing as you’re responsible for the image that will be floating through my mind for the rest of the day--did you or did you not put on your drawers before hailing me?’ Chakotay’s slow grin lit his face. ‘Something tells me they’ll be taking bets on it in the mess. See you, Captain.’ He shut off the link and with a chuckle shed the turtle neck and boxers to join Tom in the shower. He washed the shorter man’s hair, then skillfully demonstrated an alternative use for the slippery shampoo. The water ran cold long before they did, but finally the frigid temperature chased them from the cubicle. Chakotay wrapped them both in the same towel, noting with interest the faintly bluish hue of Tom’s fair skin. They dressed in comfortable silence and then it was time for Chakotay to leave. ‘How long will it take?’ Tom asked. Chakotay shrugged. ‘I can’t say. It depends on what she has to say to me--whether or not I understand it. I’ll come straight here as soon as I know anything. I have the credits to replicate dinner, so we’ll eat here tonight.’ Tom grinned. ‘I don’t think I’m ready for the mess,’ he admitted. ‘I know it’s stupid, but I keep thinking people will be able to tell we...you know, we did it.’ Chakotay laughed. For all his boastful pretense, the lieutenant was refreshingly naive. ‘Hell Tom, I wasn’t going to say anything to you, but they’ve pretty much had us ‘doing it’ for weeks now. We might as well be getting some of the enjoyment, don’t you think.’ Tom’s grin widened and he blushed clear to the roots of his hair. ‘Yeah, I guess we should,’ he said softly. He held his face up for Chakotay’s kiss good-bye and watched the commander walk from his room, wondering if he looked as nervous as he felt. Oh well, there was nothing to do now but wait.

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. ========================================================================= **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** THIS SECTION CONTAINS SUBJECT MATTER OF AN ADULT NATURE. PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** PART 7 CHAPTER TWO (cont'd) Once in his quarters, Chakotay promptly stripped and retrieved his gish. Sitting cross legged in the middle of the room, he ordered the computer to play sounds of the rain forest, then he took out two sticks and dribbled some sand on to the floor. He drew a picture of a house with several lines on either side of it along with a sun and a moon. The sticks were laid to the left of the house, then, taking a deep, cleansing breath, Chakotay closed his eyes and let his head fall backward to face an imaginary sun. She was patiently waiting for him on the ridge of a cliff very much like the one Tom had toppled down a month before. As Chakotay neared, she turned slowly to face him, and he stopped in his tracks, gasping at the bloody remnants of battle across her chest. The fur had been torn away; the evidence of a frenzied knife battle criss crossing her body. Chakotay carefully approached and when he was near enough to touch her, her mouth opened, tongue dangling, panting with smiling eyes at her charge. Fresh droplets of blood dripped from teeth bathed in red. She tossed her head and bayed proudly while Chakotay laughed with delight. How quickly, after all that, it was settled. She led him on a long, arduous hike through the rugged countryside; Chakotay took this to mean there was an extensive journey ahead for he and Tom. He never tired, though. When he was thirsty, a sparkling brook appeared; when he wearied, she paused and cleaned her wounds until he was energized. When he doubted, she offered silent encouragement, trusting he could adapt and follow; learn and understand. In the thick of an overgrown forest, she started to run; barking joyfully so Chakotay could give chase. He burst through the dense covering and gasped again at the stunning beauty she presented. It was the most glorious valley he could imagine; crammed full of wild flowers and sweet smelling grass and he felt tears trailing down his cheeks. *This will be your reward,* he heard a soft, serene voice pronounce. *You will walk with beauty all around you and the gods will rejoice in your midst.* Chakotay danced for a moment in the delicious grassy floor before her barking grew too incessant to ignore. She smiled at him, eyes twinkling, the wounds on her chest completely healed. She tossed her head at him and he heard, *Go to him. Teach him to walk with beauty. Now it is time to heal.* His eyes snapped open and he almost took off without dressing. Laughing at his oversight, he quickly donned his clothes then took off for Tom’s, stunned that he’d been gone over two hours. It had felt like minutes. He had to concentrate to keep from running, giving up when he reached Tom’s habitat ring. Luckily it was peak duty hours so no one was roaming the halls, not that it would have made any difference. He hit Tom’s door at full speed, bursting through it with a triumphant roar; snatching the astounded lieutenant into a full bear hug and twirling him around the room until they were both shouting with laughter. Chakotay’s mouth covered Tom’s and, still spinning dizzily, they necked with a crazy passion that made Tom’s heart sing. ‘I take it, she had good news,’ Tom said, eyes sparkling with such genuine happiness Chakotay wanted to weep. ‘Oh, Tom, better than good news, the *best* news,’ Chakotay said, pulling him close again, eager for his heat; his mouth; his tongue; knowing his message would be better understood physically than intellectually. Whimpering with need, Tom shrugged out of his clothing, opening his arms wide, head back in abject subservience, offering every last recess of himself to the fiery commander. Standing back to view his possession, Chakotay wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand. ‘You’re mine now, Tom Paris,’ he panted, not caring that the words were probably terrifying to the lieutenant’s bruised and battered psyche. ‘She fought for us and won and now you belong to me.’ Tom cried out; helpless yet unafraid; feeling himself consumed by the big man’s possessive control; by his certainty and flaming desire. As effortlessly as water down a drain, he surrendered to Chakotay’s insistent hands and mouth and dick. Who he was before did not exist anymore; there was only this extention of the beautiful, powerful commander, to be entered and filled; a receptical of his lover’s seed from which he would draw strength and vision and life. ‘Ohh gods, I’m yours,’ Tom shouted at Chakotay’s vicious entry. ‘I will show you the beauty way,’ Chakotay heaved. ‘You’ll learn to walk with beauty all around you.’ Tom groaned, writhing blindly in Chakotay’s paralyzing grasp. He didn’t know if they were standing or prone, if Chakotay was inside him or out, if this were real or merely a dream. It was glorious and terrifying and he never wanted it to stop. ‘You’re mine and your spirit will rest with me forever more.’ ‘I’m yours, I’m yours!’ he cried, a beautiful, wanton chorus to Chakotay’s lyrical declarations. ‘The spirits will smile on us,’ Chakotay promised, gasping for air, his body shuddering with impending release. Words were no longer possible; only animalistic grunts; cries that begged for more; and shrieks that implied surrender. With a final, glass-shattering bellow, Chakotay thrust mightily into the lieutenant who shrieked with pain and would have collapsed to the floor if Chakotay hadn’t caught him between two burly arms. Together, they sank gracefully to the floor, Chakotay ejaculating in hot, juicy spurts the entire way down. Slippery with sweat, Chakotay gently detached himself. Panting, they did not speak until some bearing of control returned. Tom curled up in Chakotay’s weak embrace, trailing kisses across the spent man’s chest. ‘I’m yours,’ Tom whispered, leaning back to gaze at his lover’s face. Chakotay reached out to brush the sweat and tears smearing Tom’s flushed face. He looked all of 12 years old and Chakotay felt a slight flash of guilt. It many ways he was still a hurt, damaged little boy who needed to be healed. *So I will heal him,* he thought, tightening his arms around him. ‘You’re mine,’ Chakotay whispered, ‘And everything is going to be fine. Nothing can hurt you anymore; you’re mine and I won’t let it.’ Tom let himself be kissed and led to the bed. Let himself be tucked beneath the sheets; let himself drift to sleep in his lover’s arms, listening to his velvet smooth voice recounting the beautiful vision he had witnessed. He let himself surrender his soul to the gentle giant of a man, but never, for a single moment, did he let himself believe he would not be hurt anymore. ++++++++++++++++++++ Several days later all the players were still cautiously learning their parts. Chakotay and the captain had a long discussion about the possible repercussions of a relationship between he and Tom. Knowing both men so well, she felt certain they could handle the situation. In the strictest interpretation of Starfleet rules it wouldn’t necessarily fly, but they weren’t in the strictest of Starfleet settings, were they? She grinned at Chakotay with one of her characteristically wicked gleams and said, ‘I, for one, am thankful the two of you finally found each other, Commander. Perhaps now the rest of the crew can stop holding their breaths for you and I to get together and actually get some work done.’ Laughing, Chakotay realized his relationship with Tom was going to enhance his friendship with the captain for just the reason she gave--no crew innuendo to worry about anymore. Chakoaty could tell Harry had a hard time reconciling the cool professionalism of Tom and Chakotay he witnessed on the bridge with the more affectionate, intimate Tom and Chakotay now revealed to him in private. Tom and Chakotay had asked Harry and B’Elanna to dinner in Chakotay’s quarters where they rather awkwardly announced their status as a couple. Harry was stunned. He’d heard the rumors and laughed them off as ludicrous. Sure Tom was rarely seen at Sandrine’s anymore, but he had been pretty sick there for a while. And anyway, the commander had never spent much time there, so his absence didn’t indicate anything. Maybe Tom and the commander had been eating together in the mess, but gods, so did he and B’Elanna and *they* certainly weren’t involved with one another. But there in Chakotay’s quarters the *togetherness* of the two men was obvious. Chakotay was very demonstrative with Tom, holding his hand, playing with his hair, slinging a possessive arm across his shoulders when they all sat down to watch a vid. And Tom was simply mesmerized by the imposing commander. Chakotay had only to smile at the lieutenant for him to beam like he’d been given an IDIC medallian. Chakotay was somewhat concerned about Harry’s diffident acceptance of their announcement. Privately, he chalked it up to jealousy and found himself sizing up the young ensign as a potential rival. Harry was only a few years younger than Tom, eons younger than himself; and he’d accepted Tom from the start. No fall from a mountaintop needed for Harry to see something worthy in the lieutenant. For some reason, that bugged the hell out of Chakotay. Not to mention the fact that suddenly Tom and Harry seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time together. Tom, confused by the commanders pique, tried to explain he and Harry had *always* spent this much time together, but Chakotay was hardly pacified. ‘I still don’t see why a *pilot* has to be on hand to test his emergency procedures,’ Chakotay groused over a late dinner. ‘All he needs is the sim flyer.’ ‘The sim flyer isn’t sentient. The best way to test how a pilot will react to something is to test how the pilot reacts to it.’ ‘Well he’s been testing for a week; you’d think he’d be able to infer something by now,’ the commander mumbled. Tom eyed Chakotay strangely. ‘Are you mad at me?’ he asked finally. ‘You’ve been pissy all night and I know nothing happened on the bridge today.’ Chakotay’s eyes blazed with momentary annoyance, before softening in the face of Tom’s troubled look. ‘I just....I just don’t see why you and Harry have to spend every waking second with each other,’ he said, hating the petulance in his voice. ‘I’m with you now, not Harry,’ Tom said, still confused. ‘Only because he got called to the Engine Room,’ Chakotay said. ‘You two are always working on your little projects--hell, you’d forget to eat if I didn’t call you home for dinner every night like some kind of fucking house mother.’ ‘Chakotay, our ‘little projects’ are trying to get us back to the Alpha Quadrant. That’s the idea here, isn’t it? You’re never home ‘til late anyway. And the only reason you call me about dinner is because your schedule is less predictable than mine.’ Chakotay made a dismissive gesture, pushing back from the table and pacing with pent up energy. ‘You spend all day together on the bridge, then half the night in the holodeck. You know he was freaked out by us. What does he do, sit there and tell you how crazy this is? How you must have lost it to hook up with me?’ ‘This is a really stupid conversation,’ Tom said. ‘What in the hell are you talking about. Harry isn’t freaked out about anything. As long as I’m happy, he doesn’t care who I’m with....’ ‘I find *that* hard to believe,’ Chakotay said sarcastically. ‘What?’ ‘Oh come on, you think I don’t see the way he looks at you?’ ‘He doesn’t look at me any *way*. Gods, Chakotay, you’re the one who’s lost it. Harry’s not even attracted to men....’ ‘So you’ve discussed this with him?’ ‘No I haven’t discussed anything with him. He’s practically married to some girl back home....’ ‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ Chakotay said hotly. ‘Things change when you’ve been gone this long...’ ‘Not that fundamentally,’ Tom said pointedly. ‘You’ve always preferred men no matter where you were and Harry’s always preferred women. And I’ve only ever preferred you so I don’t know *what* in the hell you’re getting so worked up about.’ Chakotay started to angrily reply before realizing it *was* a pretty stupid conversation. He laughed weakly and shook his head at himself. With a sheepish shrug, he took his seat across from Tom. ‘Harry’s a lot younger than I am,’ he pointed out. ‘A lot closer to your age. And he’s been your friend from the start. Why *wouldn’t* you prefer him to me?’ Tom gaped incredulously at his lover, amazed that Chakotay could doubt himself that way. Tom straddled Chakotay’s lap, staring hard into those velvet pools of brown. ‘How could you think I’d prefer *anyone* to you?’ he whispered. ‘Chakotay, you’re....you’re everything.’ Chakotay leaned forward. ‘I can’t stand the thought of anyone else wanting you the way I do,’ he said. ‘You’re so beautiful, Tom, and young. I look at you sometimes and think there’s no way I can keep you happy...’ ‘Oh Chakotay, you’re the only one who could,’ Tom said, with a long, lingering kiss. ‘Sorry I was being such a shit,’ Chakotay said into Tom’s mouth, moaning when Tom nibbled behind his ear and kissed a trail along his neck. ‘You forgive a jealous old man?’ Tom laughed as he unbuttoned Chakotay’s shirt. ‘You’re going to have to earn your forgiveness tonight, Big Man,’ he taunted, biting Chakotay’s nipple so hard, the big man shot his load with a shout of surprise. ‘Don’t go too easy on me,’ Chakotay advised, carrying Tom to the bedroom and tossing him on the bed. He stripped out of the rest of his clothes then placed a knee on the bed, looking ominously down on his young lover. ‘Otherwise, I’ll never learn anything.’

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** THIS SECTION CONTAINS SUBJECT MATTER OF AN ADULT NATURE. PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** ========================================================================= PART 8 CHAPTER TWO (cont'd) When Chakotay decided a sufficient amount of time had passed for the lieutenant to grow accustomed to their relationship, he announced they were going to put it an appearance at Sandrine’s and make it official. ‘I kind of feel like it’s our first date,’ Tom shyly admitted, sitting on Chakotay’s couch and watching the big man dress. They’d worked out together after their shift, then showered and dressed at Chakotay’s. Chakotay paused over the few shirts in his closet, finally selecting a red one. ‘More like our coming out party, I’d say,’ he said with a wink. ‘I thought you said everyone suspected us already.’ ‘Yes, but suspecting us and seeing it before your very eyes are two entirely different things.’ Tom stood up and began fastening the buttons of Chakotay’s shirt. ‘We’ll need a counselor to treat all the broken hearts,’ he said with a teasing smile. At Sandrine’s door, Chakotay took Tom’s hand and squeezed it. Tom expected him to drop it, but he didn’t, merely opened the door and stepped in with Tom in tow. It was fairly busy, enough so the entire crowd didn’t stop what they were doing to stare, but there was still an element of show and tell to their presence. They played a couple of games of pool, losing hopelessly to Harry and B’Elanna. It was a rather tame evening. Chakotay warned Tom he tended to have that effect on crew gatherings, and Tom replied that was only because most of them had never seen him naked. As the evening concluded, Chakotay went to the computer and voiced a few commands, then returned to Tom. ‘Dance with me,’ he said in a low voice. He couldn’t see it, but he knew the way Tom looked at him the lieutenant had blushed to the roots of his hair. ‘In front of everyone?’ Tom asked. Chakotay grinned. ‘What, Lieutenant. Are you *scared?*’ Tom laughed. ‘Is that a dare?’ he asked, smiling up at his lover. ‘Will it get your ass out on the floor with me?’ With another laugh, Tom let himself be led to the dance floor, fitting perfectly into that nook between Chakotay’s neck and shoulder. He smiled at the tune Chakotay selected. It was one of the commander’s favorites; a Dorvakian ballad they danced to nightly in the privacy of Chakotay’s room. ‘I love how this song makes me think of you in my arms,’ Chakotay whispered in Tom’s ear. ‘The way it makes me think about holding your naked body next to mine and feeling the soft downy fuzz of your pubic hair brush against my groin; that makes me remember the huff of breath you take every time my erection brushes against yours.’ His hand snaked down and covered Tom’s ass, pushing them tightly together. ‘From now on, it’ll remind me of the way everyone in this room wishes it was them in my place; they’re wondering how it feels to make you cum and all the while, I know, I *know* I’m the only one you’ve got anything for.’ Chakotay’s hips swayed and his erection twitched dangerously against Tom’s leg. ‘Part of me wants you to go down on me right here,’ he whispered. ‘I’d do it if you told me to,’ Tom said, his voice sounding hoarse, unused. ‘I’d do anything you told me to. *Anything.*’ Tom pulled back and looked up into Chakotay’s eyes as if waiting to be instructed, blushing when Chakotay grinned in prideful ownership. Chakotay very slowly lowered his head and captured Tom’s soft mouth, sliding his tongue into the welcoming depths until the last bar of the song wafted through the room. ‘There,’ the commander said forcefully. He winked at Tom, took his hand, and with a friendly wave to Harry and B’Elanna, led the stunned lieutenant out of Sandrine’s and home to bed.

Perfect Timing (VOY - C/P - NC17) Part 1 of Many STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** THIS SECTION CONTAINS SUBJECT MATTER OF AN ADULT NATURE. PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** ========================================================================= PART 9 CHAPTER THREE *Why is it hot in here?* Tom wondered before he was fully conscious. Jeez, he was soaking wet. He was going to have to talk to Chakotay about his environment settings. Gently disengaging himself from Chakotay’s viselike grip, he slid over to his side of the bed, biting back a groan at the pain in his lower back. Chakotay must have pulled something out of whack last night, he thought, grinning at how proud he’d be to hear it. Tom teased him that the nickname Big Man had nothing to do with his physique and everything to do with his ego. Tom carefully got out of bed--Chakotay liked his sleep--and took a shower. He was letting the hot water pound against his back, hoping to work out the kink when the bathroom began growing dark. Blackness crept around the outskirts of his vision, his head grew heavy and suddenly Tom slumped against the shower stall in a half faint. He managed to keep himself from falling, shaking his head to clear the sudden cobwebs. Now he felt cold and shivery. Had he skipped dinner last night? Strangely, he couldn’t seem to recall. He sure didn’t feel hungry. As a matter of fact, he realized with growing panic, he felt like he could puke any minute. He turned off the water, wrapped an oversized towel around his quaking shoulders and shakily slunk down until he was sitting next to the toilet. He leaned his head back against the wall and gradually the shakes died down. Eventually the nausea eased as well, and Tom unsteadily stood up. He wiped his hand across his forehead, surprised that it came away damp with sweat. He grimaced at his pale reflection in the mirror and decided he had to eat better and get a little more sleep. He went back out to the bedroom to dress and hastened to sit down when another wave of faintness threatened. Before it passed, Chakotay rolled over and opened his eyes. ‘What time is it?’ he mumbled. ‘The time is 0525,’ the computer replied. Chakotay groaned and stretched. ‘Lights up 50 percent,’ he said in the middle of a yawn. The computer complied and both men blinked at the brightness. ‘What are you doing?’ Chakotay asked Tom, who was sitting on the chair wrapped in a towel. Tom shrugged and grinned at his lover. ‘Just wondering whether or not I should sue you for so thoroughly rearranging my internal organs last night,’ Grinning proudly, Chakotay flashed his eyebrows at the lieutenant. ‘There’s a line around the ring of people begging for the opportunity,’ he joked. ‘That’s what you tell me anyway,’ Tom said, feeling steady enough to stand and start putting on his uniform. Chakotay’s grin faded. ‘Gods Tom, you’re white as the sheets. Are you okay?’ ‘I’m fine,’ Tom said, looking at Chakotay as if he were crazy. ‘Did you have another nightmare?’ Chakotay asked, coming to stand next to the younger man. Tom shrugged, not understanding his evasiveness. ‘I’m okay, Chakotay. Just hungry.’ Chakotay hugged him from behind and kissed his neck, readily accepting the excuse. ‘Something tells me it’s not for my nutritious meat either,’ he said, grinding his meat against Tom’s ass. Tom laughed, ‘Something may tell you that, but I doubt you’d believe it,’ he said wryly, turning to kiss Chakotay’s lips. Chakotay grinned good-naturedly and left to take his shower. Tom watched him go, admiring the commander’s strong physique and feeling slightly bitter towards his own faltering health. Probably nothing, he told himself with a careless shrug. Sketching a quick drawing suggesting their evening’s entertainment, Tom wrote a mushy love note and left it on Chakotay’s pillow, smiling because Chakotay would leave one for him to find when *he* returned after duty. Sometimes the commander wrote them in Navajo, leaving Tom to stew about the meaning until he came home and translated. Tom walked down to the messhall and joined Harry and B’Elanna for breakfast. Eschewing coffee, which raised the eyebrows of his friends, Tom sipped water and some kind of fruit juice, hoping it would calm his churning stomach. He thought briefly about calling in sick, imagining the humiliation of puking on the bridge, but by the time he and Harry were due to report, he felt a lot better. That lasted all of an hour. *Just let me get through today,* he pleaded inwardly, as hot and cold flashes had him alternately sweating and shivering. The energy required to act like nothing was wrong was draining--more than anything in the universe, he wanted to lie down and sleep. Thankfully, it was was an uneventful morning. Janeway, Tuvok and Chakotay spent most of it discussing the pros and cons of entering Boch’taynian airspace given what little they knew of the people and their culture. Tom’s job was just to keep the ship on its present course and other than having to respond to a comment from Harry now and again, he was left alone to do it. At the lunch break, he and Harry left together for the mess. After sitting for so long, standing seemed to require an inordinate amount of strength; Tom found himself holding tightly to the wall of turbo lift. Harry called for Deck 4 and when the lift started to move, Tom nearly lost his footing. ‘Tom?’ Harry said, concerned. He put his hand out to Tom’s shoulder and the lieutenant sagged fairly comprehensively against him and sank to the floor. ‘I’m okay, I’m okay,’ Tom mumbled at Harry’s startled cry, but after Harry helped him to stand and removed his supporting hands, he fell again. Harry pushed his comm badge. ‘Kim to engineering.’ ‘Torres here,’ ‘B’Elanna, medical emergency. Beam Tom Paris and I to sick bay.’ ‘What’s wrong?’ asked B’Elanna. ‘B’Elanna, I’ll call you in a minute, please hurry.’ They materialized in Sickbay, Tom still in a heap on the floor. Kes was in the office and she promptly activated the doctor who motioned for Tom to be placed on a biobed. ‘I’m okay, just...a little shakey maybe....’ Tom mumbled trying to sit up. Kes gently pushed him down. ‘Relax, Tom,’ she soothed. ‘We were in the turbo lift and he just, kind of, collapsed,’ Harry was saying to the doctor who looked over at Tom for verification. Tom shrugged at the accuracy of the statement and grimaced at Harry. ‘Look Harry, thanks for....for getting me here and everything. But you don’t have to wait. It’s probably just low blood sugar or something. You know, I skipped breakfast and didn’t eat much for dinner.....You don’t have to sit around or anything....’ Reading Tom’s embarrassment Harry shrugged and grinned. ‘Anything to get out of work, huh Lieutenant,’ he said, taking up leave. ‘You got it,’ Tom replied with an answering grin. He was cold again and when the Sickbay door slid closed behind Harry, he started shaking. Kes got him a blanket and while she started taking blood and the doctor scanned him with the medilyzer, he closed his eyes and pretended to be scamming time off from the bridge. ‘Computer, locate Commander Chakotay,’ Harry said as the Sickbay door’s closed. ‘Commander Chakotay is in the Ready Room,’ the computer politely replied. Steeling himself, Harry walked to the Ready Room door, visions of the messenger being punished for the message. He buzzed at the door and Tuvok answered, raising a characteristic eyebrow at the ensign’s presence. ‘May I speak to the Commander,’ Harry asked, feeling incredibly self-conscious. Chakotay appeared at the door, looking vaguely annoyed, but Harry ruefully thought that was how the commander always looked at him these days. ‘Um, Commander, Tom’s in Sickbay,’ Harry began, stopping at the frozen look on Chakotay’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’ the commander asked, stepping back as Janeway joined him at the door. ‘I’m not sure,’ Harry said. ‘Tom sort of fainted in the turbo lift, so we beamed over to Sickbay. He said something like it was low blood sugar and not to sit around, but....but I thought maybe you should know.’ ‘Oh, yeah...well....thanks Mr. Kim,’ Chakotay said, no longer seeing the ensign in front of him. He turned worried eyes to the captain and before he could say, ‘Permission to....’, Janeway answered with ‘Go, Commander. Let me know something as soon as you hear.’ Chakotay took off for Sickbay, making a concerted effort not to run. He *knew* Tom looked ill that morning; he should have insisted he go to Sickbay immediately. He charged through the Sickbay doors and rushed to Tom’s side. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked the doctor. There was no color in Tom’s face; his sunken eyes looked enormously large. ‘Jeez, Harry didn’t have to scare you down here,’ Tom groused. ‘I’m okay....’ The doctor pursed his lips. ‘Lieutenant, your temperature is 102 degrees and your white count is at 40,000. That hardly qualifies you as ‘okay.’’ Tom grimaced at the doctor and shook his head at Chakotay as if to minimize the impact of his words. Chakotay smoothed the hair off Tom’s heated forehead and considered taking the discussion back to the doctor’s office, but Tom would have to be told soon enough. ‘The medication Tom took is wearing off, isn’t it?’ Chakotay asked quietly. ‘The virus isn’t fooled anymore.’ ‘It looks that way,’ the doctor said briskly. ‘Kes and I have been trying to develop a more reliable medication but have not come across one as yet.’ ‘So what does that mean?’ Chakotay asked, his calm veneer threatening to give way. ‘What do we do now?’ ‘That means, Commander, that Kes and I continue testing medications. It’s all we can do.’ ‘Then why don’t I go back to my quarters until you find something?’ Tom suggested helpfully. Kes, the Doctor and Chakotay all shot him nearly identical dubious looks. ‘Sickbay is the best place for you right now,’ Kes said in her kind, soft voice--a much more diplomatic response than either Chakotay or the doctor would have offered. Tom’s shrug said it was worth a try. He settled back in the bed having discovered the nausea lessened a bit when he was flat on his back. Gods he was starting to feel really sick. ‘Chakotay, you go back to the bridge,’ he said weakly pushing the commander from his side. ‘I...I’ll be okay ....you can stop by when you’re off duty.’ ‘I won’t be any good up there,’ Chakotay said softly, leaning down to kiss Tom’s cheek. Tom smiled, ‘Yeah, well, I have a feeling you’ll be more trouble down here. Kes will call you if they need you.’ Chakotay glanced up at Kes who nodded her agreement. She smiled sympathetically at the commander who sighed and shrugged his okay. ‘You should have told me you felt sick,’ he whispered to Tom. ‘Don’t....don’t keep things like this from me.’ ‘I thought I was hungry,’ Tom replied lamely, smirking at Chakotay’s obvious disbelief. ‘Well, yeah, I guess you’re right,’ he relented. ‘I don’t want you to worry. You worry, you know.’ ‘Just about you,’ Chakotay whispered, lightly kissing his mouth. ‘Take care; I’ll see you in a few.’

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** THIS SECTION CONTAINS SUBJECT MATTER OF AN ADULT NATURE. PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** ========================================================================= PART 10 CHAPTER THREE (cont'd) Chakotay was back a few hours later. He had been useless on the bridge and now he was kicking himself for staying away. Tom’s temperature was up; he was suffering from painful muscle spasms and had vomitted off and on all afternoon. Just before Chakotay arrived, he finally fell into a restless sleep. He looked terrible; his skin pale and even in sleep his face was drawn up in pain. ‘Any news?’ Chakotay hopefully asked Kes, who sadly shook her head. The commander quietly sat at Tom’s bedside, refusing to accompany Harry and B’Elanna to the mess for a dinner break. They had stopped in after duty, but Tom was still asleep and there was nothing for them to do. But Chakotay couldn’t leave. At one point, Tom awoke with a start and looked confusedly about the room. Nothing registered in his face when Chakotay took his hand and said, ‘Hey there, Tom, everything’s okay.’ Tom’s eyes widened fearfully. ‘Does Daddy know I’m here?’ he whispered, gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. The hair on Chakotay’s neck stood on end and he tasted bile at the back of his mouth. Swallowing hard, he had to concentrate to keep his voice soft. ‘He can’t touch you here, Kitten,’ he said softly, petting the hair of Tom’s forehead and leaning in a little closer, willing Tom to recognize him; to know where he was. Had he been well, it would have embarrassed Tom to know Kes overheard Chakotay use his affectionate nickname. They’d been lying in bed one morning, enjoying the lazy aftermath of orgasm, when Chakotay playfully pet Tom’s hair as he was licking up the creamy cum on Chakotay’s abdomen. ‘You’re my sweet little kitty cat,’ he’d teased, laughing when Tom growled and threated to take a bite out of him. Chakotay’s laughter died down and he gathered Tom close and remembered Tom’s early skittishness and the way he could be calmed with a caress or a kind word; how a loud noise made him jump and the way he curled up in Chakotay’s lap after a trying day. He felt tears in his eyes as he almost reverently kissed the younger man’s forehead. ‘You’re my sweet Kitten,’ he’d whispered and somehow the silly name stuck. In private, Tom adored the rushing warmth that accompanied the tender endearment, though he harbored a well found fear that one of these days Chakotay would be on the bridge and in the heat of battle would shout, ‘Full warp speed! Get us out of here, Kitten!’ They often giggled about the possibility, which didn’t mean Tom wasn’t concerned. ‘I’m with you now and you’re safe,’ Chakotay was whispering. ‘Nothing can hurt you when I’m here.’ Tom bit his lower lip and whispered, ‘Safe,’ like it was some kind of magical password. Chakotay blinked and a couple of tears slipped down his cheek. ‘Gods, Tom, please....please try to....I mean, you’ve got to try not to....Tom, you’ve got to try real hard not to let this thing beat you, you hear? I need you with me. I love you, okay?’ Tom brought his hand up to his chest and pressed against his thundering heart. It was hurting him. He blinked hard a couple of times and his eyes cleared. ‘You never said that before,’ he rasped, staring at the big man with wide eyes. ‘I know,’ Chakotay said, leaning down even closer, gently nuzzling Tom’s cheek. ‘I should have. I should have said it the first time you looked up at me with those pretty blue eyes and turned that fly boy smile on me. I was a goner from the start. I love you, Tom Paris. I love you.’ Tom closed his eyes and arched his back against an onslought of painful cramps. ‘You would tell me that when I’m flat on my back and can’t do anything about it,’ he panted when the pain finally receded. Chakotay laughed and sobbed at the same time. ‘Why don’t you tell me the same thing,’ he suggested, then gave him a quick wink. ‘Not to mention giving me a raincheck promising to provide proof.’ A slow grin spread across Tom’s face. ‘Oh Chakotay, you know I do,’ he whispered softly. ‘You’re the only person I ever loved in the whole universe....the only one I ever *will* love. I just didn’t want to make you feel bad by saying it if you didn’t feel that way too.’ Swiping at the tears on his face, Chakotay shook his head. ‘Gods, you’re sweet.’ he said. ‘Don’t leave me, okay?’ The very idea that Chakotay would request such a thing stunned Tom. He could only nod at Chakotay’s demand, but then, another cramp took hold and forced the breath from him and for a long time, he couldn’t speak anyway. ++++++++++++++++++++ Two days passed. Tom was only conscious for brief snatches now and whenever he came around, he had to be told where he was and what was happening to him. The virus was fighting ferociously for Tom’s body and was apparently winning. Chakotay felt as if he was watching everything from under water or behind some kind of taped delay force field. It all appeared in slow motion; designed to make him endure every moment of Tom’s suffering and all the while punctuating his inability to do anything about it. Janeway kindly offered, then firmly ordered Chaktoay to stay off the bridge. She, Harry and B’Elanna took turns bringing Chakotay food and cajoling him into taking a shower and getting some rest, but he hated to leave Sickbay. He worried incessantly about Tom coming around, frightened, lost, and Chakotay not being there for him. It was Janeway’s watch when Chakotay shook his head at some inner conversation, eyes boring into the ground in front of him. ‘I never expected this,’ he huffed under his breath, only realizing he’d spoken aloud after Janeway turned to look at him. Chakotay shrugged, shook his head some more, mouth drawn up tight in a grimace of disbelief. ‘Seven months ago, I thought he was this arrogant, smart ass, son of a bitch and now....’ his voice caught in his throat and trailed off. He gruffly cleared the blockage. ‘Now, I don’t know how to be without him.’ ‘You’re not going to be without him,’ Janeway said with quiet intensity. ‘The doctor said he’ll be fine....’ ‘If he can isolate the contagion, and if he can develop an antidote, and if the damage already done isn’t permanent...’ Chakotay’s head still shook back and forth, his features revealing more and more of the hopelessness welling within him. It was too much, he thought, but could not say to the captain. It’s the straw that will break him, and in breaking him, destroy us both. ‘Chakotay, you heard the doctor. He fully expects to find the cure and reverse any damage.’ ‘He’s not programmed to expect anything else,’ Chakotay said bitterly. ‘You don’t understand. I promised Tom--promised myself--that I’d....that I’d....protect him....that no more bad things would touch him.’ Chakotay ran a trembling hand through his short, bristled hair, still staring forlornly at the ground. He missed the brief flicker of amusement that flashed across the captain’s face. ‘Well now, Commander. I’d have to be blind to miss the obvious....esteem the lieutenant holds for you. However, I believe even Mr. Paris knows the extent of what you can and can’t control.’ Chakotay’s lips twitched in self-deprecation. ‘Yes, I suppose he does,’ he admitted. ‘I just...feel like I should be able to fix everything. I...I like his thinking I can, you know?’ ‘I’m beginning to see,’ Janeway drawled. Kes poked her head out of the infirmary. ‘He’s coming around, Commander,’ she said. Rising quickly, Chakotay brushed passed Kes and in three quick strides was at Tom’s side. He felt tears burn his eyes at the sight of the ailing young man. Tom’s cheeks were flushed with bright, red splotches; the rest of his skin was a frightening gray. Chakotay could feel the heat radiating from his skin as he picked up a hand and brought it to his lips. Tom struggled to consciousness, needing a ridiculous effort to open his heavy, blood shot eyes. He realized instantly that he was not home and the familiar panic that accompanied exposure made him fearfully cry out. ‘It’s okay, Tom,’ Chakotay crooned. ‘You’re in Sickbay. You’ve had another relapse, but I’m here with you and everything’s going to be fine.’ Willing his eyes to focus, Tom took in the pained visage of his lover. ‘You look tired,’ he rasped, touching one of the dark circles beneath Chakotay’s eye. Chakotay kissed the hand he held and smiled. ‘Neither one of us is going to win any beauty pageants,’ he said wryly. Tom smiled, but it faded quickly. His back involuntarily arched from the bed as a vicious spasm tore through his nervous system. ‘Oh gods, just let it kill me and be done!’ he screamed inwardly. He waited for Kes or the doctor to inject something--anything--but there was no intervention. He gasped violently for air, tearing at his chest trying to somehow coax his lungs into fully expanding. When it was over, oh gods, finally, over, Tom, gratefully sucked down mouthfuls of air, only gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. He felt guilty for the tears streaming down Chakotay’s smooth cheeks. It would be better for all of them when he was gone, he thought fleetingly. ‘Oh, Chakotay, I feel so ill,’ he whispered. The words sliced like a knife in Chakotay’s gut. ‘I know,’ he said in a shaking voice, ‘I know. But it’s just....it’s just until the doctor finds the cure. Anything they could give you for the pain might camouflage what they’re looking for.’ Tom nodded wearily. ‘What if....what if he doesn’t find it, then what?’ ‘Don’t say that!’ Chakotay angrily hissed. ‘Don’t even think it! You’re going to be fine, Tom. You’re going to be fine! But a lot of that is believing you’ll be okay, do you hear me? We can’t have any negative thinking here, okay?’ Shrugging carelessly, Tom wondered vaguely why he wasn’t as concerned as Chakotay. The weaker he felt--the further away this present reality became--the calmer he was. That idea alone should have him climbing the walls, he thought. Tom sighed and struggled to find a more comfortable position. Everything ached, both inside and out, except wherever Chakotay was touching him. The big man had picked up a cool cloth and was gently wiping him down. His touch was magical, both gentle and commanding. ‘I’m sorry to be so much trouble,’ he said, breathing hard at the effort it took to speak. ‘It seems like.....like you’re always having to....to....deal with my shit,’ His back arched and his words tightened with pain. Tom’s eyes bulged at the rising torment of agony coursing through his bloodstream. He felt sweat dripping from his face, pooling in his ear and he realized in a vague, far-off way that the noisy cries filling the Sickbay were coming from him. ‘Please, you’ve got to do something!’ he heard Chakotay’s desperate voice and he wondered irritably just what in the hell he was supposed to do. Then he heard the holodoc answering and he felt a flash of guilt. ‘Chakotay, we learn more when the lieutenant is awake. The sedatives that keep him unconscious interfere just as badly as the ones to mask the pain.’ ‘A somnifier then. Or a Vulcan neck pinch....anything. Please.’ ‘Chakotay,’ Kes’ voice this time. Gentle, patient. Understanding the pain of watching someone suffer. ‘This is how it happens when you’re dealing with a virus that’s never been seen. I know it’s terrible to watch; I know Tom’s uncomfortable, that you’re both frightened, but you simply must let us do our job.’ Tom heard what sounded like a sob, then Chakotay was whispering something he couldn’t hear. Oh gods, not again, he thought, as fiery, spiked fingers clenched around his stomach. He started to finally, blessedly, loose consciousness, but wouldn’t you know it, that’s when Kes and the holodoc decided to take action. Kes grabbed his face, yelling at him to stay there. Fuck that, she had no idea what she was asking. The doctor was yelling at him, too, ordering him to pay attention, shouting instructions to Kes. Fuck it, he thought bitterly, hating the frenzied activity outside of him, hating the feel of their hands on him, their insistence that he continue to participate when all he wanted--blessed oblivion--lay just beyond his grasp. But then there was an eerie kind of silence and Chakotay’s face appeared just centimeters from his. ‘Please, Tom,’ Chakotay whispered. ‘Please Beloved, mi teyaamo. Please stay awake. Stay awake.’ Tom shook violently beneath the mountains of covers. Damn them! Damn them! he thought. They didn’t know what they were asking! But they knew he wouldn’t refuse. He managed to focus his bleary eyes on the panic-stricken commander. ‘I’ll try,’ he managed to choke out. ‘I’ll try.’ Chakotay kissed his forehead, whispering a Navajo prayer he couldn’t understand but still found somewhat comforting. More pain in his abdomen; Kes’ hands were making it worse. He wished desperately to be left alone. He wished for blackness, for the absence of being, for peace. He’d had so little peace in his life; what little he’d found had come only in Chakotay’s embrace but for so brief a time. He felt himself slipping away; felt his anger and resentment replaced by a spreading, soothing warmth, that started in the center of his chest and moved outward. Oh this was nice. This was so nice.... Chakotay watched panic-stricken as Tom’s eyes fluttered and rolled back in his head. His body went limp and the readings above him started going all over the place. Suddenly, his arms and legs grew rigid, his head snapped back, and a horrible, gurgling gasp lifted his back from the bed. Then, to Chakotay’s horror, he began violent convulsing. Kes shoved Chakotay from Tom’s bedside and swiftly injected two hyposprays into the lieutenant’s neck. Nothing changed and a terrifying minute later, the holodoc pressed another spray into Tom’s shoulder and now the seizure began to abate. Tom groaned deep and low from the back of his throat. A series of mini-seizures, like aftershocks following an earthquake, continued to rock his system, and with another low moan, he rolled to his side and vomited. When the doctor finally restored some semblance of stability, Kes began cleaning him up. In the last hour, his temperature had risen a degree and a half, hovering at a dangerous 105.6°. His left kidney was starting to fail and an erratic heartbeat was now added to his list of ailments. Swallowing his own nausea, Chakotay reapproached his lover’s side. ‘I don’t want him to die like this,’ he said, his voice surprisingly steady. ‘If we have a chance....if we can find a cure, I’ll do anything, *anything* I possibly can to see it happen. But if there’s no hope; if nothing more can be done for him.....then let me take him. Let me hold him and send him gently to the other side. This is....this is torture and I simply can’t let him go like this......’ He blinked away the tears and swallowed hard, knowing that hysteria would render his arguments moot. Tom needed his rationality; it was the last gift he could give the young lieutenant--a dignified, painfree death. Surely after all his suffering as a child, after all the indignities and cruelties of his young life; surely Tom deserved this final, minute act of kindness. ‘Don’t count him out yet.’ It was Captain Janeway’s voice, just centimeters behind him. Strong, angry, forceful. ‘I don’t know his story the way you do,’ she said, tightly gripping Chakotay’s arm. ‘But I do know he’s been sold short most of his life and every single time, he’s proven everyone wrong. You know better than any of us how strong Tom Paris really is.’ With a tired sigh, Chakotay ran his hand across his burning eyes. ‘So much has happened to him....so much that no one will ever know. I can’t have this. I can’t let this be the way he crosses over. I’m not selling him short, Captain. I’m *not.* Tom has a strength I can’t even begin to fathom. All I’m saying is, if it’s not enough, if this is to be the end, then let it be gentle and forgiving. Let him go out respecting life, not dreading it. Let him welcome death as the beginning of a wonderful journey and not simply the escape from some kind of worldy torture. It’s all I have to give him.’ ‘You have a lifetime together to give him,’ Janeway said, gripping his arm for emphasis. Chakotay took a deep breath. It seemed like weeks since he’d seen anything but the muted flourescent lights of Sickbay. He shrugged, feeling lost and realized he was trying to make a mammoth decision without any spiritual influence. His arrogance again. As good as Tom was for him, he also awakened serious demons in the commander--the need to control and possess; equating love with ownership. This was not his decision to make alone. ‘I....Captain....Kes, I need to go to my quarters for a little while,’ Chakotay said, tucking the blanket a little more tightly around Tom’s shoulder. ‘Will you call me if there’s any change?’ ‘Of course, Commander,’ Kes said; ever patient. Chakotay walked slowly to his quarters, idly trying to figure how long it had been since he was last there. He gave up the riddle with a tired shrug. Peeling off his uniform, he stepped in the shower and stood under scorching hot water just to feel something. He wondered if the dead feeling spreading from his chest outward was what Tom had felt in prison, looking up at Begay as the realization of his betrayal hit home. He was going to make up for all of that; replace all the rotten, bitter memories with happiness and light. *Now* who was the naive child in this relationship, he thought sharply. Like he could erase a lifetime of misery with a kind word and a soft touch. What a cosmic joke. It was not the appropriate mindset for a meeting with the spirits, Chakotay realized. He walked out to the bedroom with a towel around his waist and sank exhaustedly to the bed. For the first time, he understood Tom’s animosity toward them, toward their anitpathy and inattentiveness. He leaned back against the bedpost and closed his eyes to try to clear his acrid thoughts and with one soft sigh fell into a much-needed sleep. With a stifled cry of dispair, he awoke some time later, panicked and confused. His comm badge beeped and he realized with a crushing terror that he had fallen asleep; dropped his vigile; left Tom to fend for himself. Gods, oh gods, no, no, no.....he thought with rising hysteria as Kes’s voice called, ‘Commander Chakotay? Kes to Commander Chakotay. Are you there?’ Oh gods, oh no oh no oh no oh no, he pleaded. I can’t do this, it’s too soon. Don’t you understand, don’t you see? Oh gods, no! ‘Commander?’ He groped for the badge. ‘Chakotay here,’ he managed to rasp, sounding like he hadn’t spoken for months. ‘Commander! We’ve found a drug that’s working! It’s just like before. Tom’s temperature is dropping and all of the internal damage has been reversed!’ Chakotay released his clenched stomach muscles and emitted a cry that signaled both pain and relief. ‘He’s cured then? He’s cured? He’ll be fine? No more virus? No more of this....’ Kes’s silence was his answer and the momentary joy was replaced with a shroud of defeat. ‘We’ll talk when you get to Sickbay,’ she said gently. With a sigh, Chakotay clicked off and for the second time, nearly tore out of his quarters in the buff. His laugh was more of a sob, but he shook his head and thought, *That damn kid stole my mind the same time he stole my heart...*

STANDARD FAN FICTION DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters blah blah blah. Please see other fan fiction for better worded, more officially sounding disclaimers and understand that they apply here as well. Please see Part 1 for intro explanation of my Voyager universe. This story (eventually) contains material of an adult nature. Please do not read if you are under 18 years of age. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** THIS SECTION CONTAINS SUBJECT MATTER OF AN ADULT NATURE. PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** ========================================================================= PART 11 CHAPTER THREE (cont'd) They probably would have made better time if Chakotay was carrying him, but together they slowly, carefully made their way to Tom’s quarters. It was only 24 hours since the doctor had discovered the latest vaccine, but he agreed to let Tom recuperate in his own quarters. Chakotay was starting to think it would have been wiser to simply beam there directly, but it seemed important to Tom that he make the journey under his own steam. Crewmembers smiled encouragingly, offering greetings and good wishes. Only a few were openly fearful of contagion and Chakotay’s withering glare was enough to keep them from saying anything aloud. By the time they reached Tom’s quarters, the lieutenant was trembling uncontrollably, the residual effects of the trauma to his central nervous system. The shaking rendered him helpless--he couldn’t support his weight; couldn’t feed himself; or read a book or fiddle with a data padd; there was nothing to do but ride it out. The holodoc had promised to prescribe medication if the symptom persisted much longer, but he preferred for Tom’s system to right itself. Chakotay helped Tom to the bed, clucking to him in a soft, soothing voice, knowing the more upset Tom became, the worse the shaking would get. Tom allowed himself to be handled; to be undressed and pushed into a reclining position. He willed his traitorous limbs to obey the signals he was sending to little avail. Gods, he’d never sit in the pilot’s seat again at this rate. He tossed uncomfortably, trying to sit up, but unable to figure out what muscles and bones were needed for such an act. ‘Mmm.....mmm bathroom,’ he mumbled, recognizing almost too late the churning nausea in his belly. Chakotay, himself recognizing Tom’s telltale greenish hue, quickly pulled Tom from the bed and half-supported, half carried him to the bathroom. Leaning heavily against the countertop, Tom ineffectually pushed at Chakotay to leave him alone. ‘By myself,’ he whispered, refusing to meet Chakotay’s eyes. The commander started to argue, but the intense shame clouding Tom’s face silenced him. Instead he kissed the top of Tom’s head, whispered, ‘Mi teyaamo,’ and left the room. The sounds of Tom’s retching filled the tiny cabin. Chakotay sat on the floor outside the bathroom with his head in his hands. At one point, alarmed by the length of the attack, he contacted the holodoc who assured him it was just the last vestiges of the virus and all the different medications pumped into the lieutenant’s system. The sudden stillness after he clicked off made Chakotay hurry to Tom’s side. Curled around the base of the toilet, the lieutenant was only semi-conscious. He was covered in vomit, at some point no longer able to support himself over the toilet. Chakotay swallowed his tears, reminding himself that Tom was getting better. He played it over and over in his mind, a mantra that helped steady his own shaking hands. ‘He’s getting better-better-better.....’ He cleaned off the worst of the mess with a washcloth, then ran the bath and gently placed Tom in the soothing warm water. Chakotay mopped up the bathroom floor, then peeled off his clothes and joined Tom. He slipped in behind the young lieutenant, wrapping his arms around his fragile lover to curb the spasms. Tom moaned as control began ebbing back into his system. Eventually his body calmed and Chakotay eased his hold. Tom turned, burying his head in the big man’s massive shoulder, and began to sob. ‘It’s okay, Kitten,’ Chakotay whispered, trying at first to quiet the hysterical young man. He realized that perhaps this release was just what Tom needed. After that, he simply smoothed the soft blond hair, and periodically whispered, ‘I love you. I’m right here. I love you and everything’s going to be just fine.’ Tom was barely awake when Chakotay roused them from the tub. He helped Tom to bed and settled him between the sheets. Tom lay on his back, staring up at Chakotay with unfocused eyes. ‘I love you,’ Tom murmured. ‘Even when you go away, I’ll still love you....’ ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Chakotay soothed. Tom sighed, not realizing it was tears clouding his vision. ‘Oh, you will,’ he whispered. ‘But it doesn’t matter....Now’s enough.....it has to be.’ He mumbled something more, but Chakotay could no longer understand. Poor kid, he thought, brushing the hair from his forehead. He expects so much of himself, yet so little of everyone else. Chakotay grabbed another blanket from the cabinet and tucked it around Tom. He suddenly felt guilty for letting Tom believe his feelings were so much stronger than Chakotay’s. It was a selfish kind of control maneuver; and one certainly Kes and the captain could see through given his hysteria of the past week and a half. And yet somehow, he was more comfortable with their knowing than with Tom’s. ‘Some fearless big man, huh, babe?’ he muttered. Oh well, they all harbored their own secrets. Certainly there were worse to be had, weren’t there? ++++++++++++++++++++ Tom’s recovery plan consisted mostly of sleeping which he did for roughly 20 hours a day. The high point of his life was Chakotay returning from duty to eat dinner with him and recount the days’ events. After they ate, Chakotay usually read aloud for a little while, then Tom fell asleep for another 12 hours. ‘What does mi teyaamo mean?’ Tom asked one evening after dinner. Chakotay had often whispered the phrase to him of late and it never failed to warm him like a caress, but he just realized he didn’t know what it meant. Chakotay smiled at Tom and made room for him on the couch. ‘Mmm, there’s not really a single Federation word for it,’ he said, gathering Tom close to him. He grinned and nuzzled Tom’s neck and said, as was the case with any Native American legend, ‘I need to start at the beginning.’ Tom chuckled and snuggled back in to Chakotay’s embrace. ‘I’ll change the story a little so it fits us, but the meaning will be clear. Long ago, when the buffalo were plenty and the skies were just a home for the stars, a brave warrior awoke one morning and went to say his morning prayers by a crystal clear lake. When he got there another warrior--’ ‘I have a feeling this is where the story’s nudged,’ Tom said, laughing when Chakotay playfully bit his neck to silence him. ‘Another warrior was bathing in the lake. Their eyes locked and the spirits stilled the world around them. Brother Wind and Sister Sky; the animals and trees, the lake herself were humbled as these two handsome men stood toe to toe and each gazed into the heart of the other. They came together perfectly; made love on the sandy shores in hommage to the gods who’d placed them at that exact spot at that exact time; and for one beautiful moment, all was right with the world. There was no injustice, no needless death, nothing but beauty and truth and a brief glance at immortality. But then it was over, and the first warrior had to return to his tribe which was preparing for battle. They were terribly saddened to be separated, to lose one another so quickly after the finding, but the warrior’s sense of duty was strong and there was nothing to be done. But he knew the instant he first saw the other man that his life was elsewhere; that he had lost the most important part of himself to the beautiful man before him. He would return to his tribe to complete his final duty, then yield to the life the spirits planned for him. The second warrior was terribly afraid. What if his love was killed in battle? Or worse, what if he decided not to fulfill the destiny the gods had chosen? The first warrior thought on this for a moment, then removed his gish from around his neck. The gish is his medicine pack; in it, he keeps everything that is holy to him; it is his connection to his spirit world; the power behind every thought, every action, every beat of his heart. He took the gish and placed it around the neck of his warrior and said, ‘There is no me; there is only us. Without you I am not half; I am nothing. Only when we are together can we live as our spirits want us to live. You are the keeper of my soul; my spirit dwells in you and only when we are together may it come back to rest within me.’ And so it was the spirits realized the power of uniting two people in a love so holy, so strong that Brother Wind and Sister Sky bow down before it; and the trees and animals and lakes and mountains pay tribute to its beauty. So when a man is born, the spirits also plan for his teyaamo, the keeper of his soul, and arrange the man’s life so that if he follows the beauty way; if he allows himself to remain on the pathway of spiritual fullfillment, the gods will find pleasure in him, and he will be rewarded with the revelation of his teyaamo. I know now that you are my teyaamo, mi teyaamo. You’re the keeper of my soul. You’re the reward for spiritual devotion; for walking with beauty all around me.’ Tom was quiet for a long time before gruffly clearing his throat. ‘That’s a beautiful story,’ he said, turning to his side so he could slip his arms around Chakotay and nuzzle his head on his shoulder. ‘It’s true,’ Chakotay said. He sat up and gently disengaged from Tom’s hold. He took something from the top dresser drawer and knelt before Tom, placing the small leather pouch in his palm and wrapping his fingers around it. He kissed the hand that held his gish and gazed into Tom’s stunned blue eyes. ‘Everything I need for my spiritual life is in this gish. But my spiritual life means nothing without you, mi teyaamo. So I’ll have you keep the gish as a symbol of my committment to you. You hold in your hand my future; so now, my future can only be had through you. I can’t have one without the other; which is fine with me, because without one, I wouldn’t *want* the other.’ He leaned in and kissed Tom’s mouth, tasting his salty tears as they slid down his cheeks. ‘I don’t....I don’t know what to say,’ Tom whispered. ‘Say you love me,’ Chakotay prompted. ‘Say I’m your life, Tom Paris. And promise me; promise me with every gram of conviction you’ve got, that you’ll never, ever leave me.’ Tom pulled the commander on top of him and stared, memerized, into his silken brown eyes. ‘I love you,’ he whispered, punctuating his words with light kisses. ‘You’re my life, Chakotay. And I promise, with every gram of conviction I’ve got, that I’ll never, ever leave you.’